


Discovering Faith Once More

by LetsRandom



Series: Discovering Faith Once More [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Smallville, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 44,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7233841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetsRandom/pseuds/LetsRandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the death of Pa, Clark lost his hope. He was lucky enough to find Faith in Sunnydale</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scissors / ???

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I've posted on TTH and I'm posting it over on this site as well. The story is told through a series of short scenes all inspired by prompts words given to me by a friend. Prompt words will be given at the beginning of a scene unless I feel it is better holding it back until the end.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

 Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

******Scissors**  
  
“Huh, that’s odd.”  
  
Clark turned around slightly to look at his mother, “What is it ma?”  
  
“I think these scissors are getting dull,” she commented, staring at the scissors, “I'm having trouble cutting your hair.”  
  
Clark felt a sinking feeling in his gut; the word from a few days ago resonating in his mind.  
  
_Demon…_  
  
“Huh?” he asked, pretending to be confused.  
  
“They just keep slipping. Let me try another pair,” his mother put the scissors down on the nearby table. She reached for a slightly larger pair, “These should do the trick.”  
  
_I hope so._  
  
“Odd,” she frowned, “These scissors aren’t working either. They can’t be dull too.”  
  
Fighting his up-welling emotions, Clark desperately tried to keep his tears in check. He couldn’t let his mother see him scared; she’d been through enough already. She didn’t need to find out about the vampire and she definitely didn’t need to know that her adoptive son was in reality a demon.  
  
“Clark?”  
  
He wasn’t getting it together fast enough and if he didn’t calm himself soon, she’d definitely notice. The gentle touch of her hand on his shoulder felt impossibly heavy. Its weight filled him with dread. She was going to see.  
  
“Honey, you ok?”  
  
His eyes were starting to well, in a matter of moments the damn would burst and his treacherous tears would flow.  
  
“Honey, what’s wrong?”  
  
He felt his mother’s warm hand cup the side of his face. Luckily, his cheek was still dry. Unfortunately, there was little he could do when she lifted his head to look at her.  
  
And in that moment, he knew his mother understood. How he didn’t belong; how it was tearing him up inside. As she gently pulled him into a hug, Clark sobbed uncontrollably, his body heaving with the effort. His cries started loud, as screams of anguish, but as his mother continued to rock him to and fro, part of him calmed and the screaming stopped. At least the sound did.  
  
It took several minutes in his mother’s arms before Clark could close his mouth. His jaw had been frozen in a silent scream for so long that it twinged painfully as he swallowed. His mother would want an explanation. His voice failed him the first time he tried to talk. Thankfully, it only wobbled on his second try.  
  
“I’ve just been having a hard time adjusting,” he rasped, hoping the half-truth would suffice.  
  
“Clark Kent,” apparently it would not. His mother knew he was lying, “You were taught better than to lie to our—my face.” The awkward correction flew right over his head. Clark was too busy trying to avoid the underlying issue.  
  
“Don’t worry about it ma…” he tried to pass it off as nothing despite knowing his mother would see through it.  
  
“Clark _Jerome_ Kent! Look at me!” his mother rarely lost her temper, but as she held him away from her, Clark knew he was in for it. The middle name had been brought out. He looked at his mother and saw everything she was feeling. Her eyes showed it all.  
  
There was frustration, but surprisingly no anger. There was confusion, an understandable reaction. And then there was love, something he wasn’t sure he deserved. He looked away.  
  
“Honey, I didn’t mean to get angry, but I need to know what’s wrong.”  
  
Still refusing to meet her eyes, Clark decided the jig was up, “I’m a demon.”  
  
“I’m sorry what?”  
  
Of course she misheard, no one expected their adopted ‘special’ child to be a demon.  
  
“You heard me ma. I’m a demon,” Clark repeated, his voice completely bland.  
  
“You’re just special, is all,” his mother retorted, almost snorting in disbelief, “What nonsense is this? A demon?”  
  
Clark clenched his fist in frustration. _It was not funny!_ “Ma, I am a demon. Someone told me so and it makes perfect sense.”  
  
His mother’s startled silence allowed him to continue, voicing all his self-doubt.  
  
“It explains everything. The strength, the speed, the hearing, sight, and it makes perfect sense that I’d have the ability to set fires with my eyes. I am the perfect embodiment of evil—“  
  
Martha interrupted him firmly, “You’re not a demon.”  
  
“You’re being blinded by your love for me,” Clark rallied, caught up in his self-flagellation, “I know you and Pa found me one day. How were you to know you were taking in a demon?”  
  
His mother sighed, “Clark, what’s got this demon idea stuck in your noggin’?”  
  
“A vampire.”  
  
That answer brought his mother up short, “I’m sorry dear, but could you repeat that.”  
  
“A vampire,” Clark said it slower, but realized how outlandish it sounded, he continued to explain, “I met a vampire the other night and she called me a demon.”  
  
His mother’s face pulled into a frown, “I’ve heard rumours… but that’s…” she suddenly gave him a sardonic smile, “But considering my son is from space, I shouldn’t be that surprised, now should I?”  
  
For once it was Clark’s turn to be shocked into silence. The dancing of his mother’s eyes did little to help kickstart his brain. It took several minutes before he finally realized he still possessed the ability of speech.  
  
“But… how?”  
  
“Your father and I were going to tell you when you were older. But I think it’s important you find out why we always knew you were going to be special…”  
  
  
.  
  
  
Dealing with everything was more than overwhelming at times and Clark needed a retreat: his 'Fortress of Solitude' as aptly put by his ma. Unfortunately since relocating to Sunnydale, it had been an issue finding a new place to hide away when the sounds became too much. Soon he'd be meeting the rest of his family and by extension, his cousin through adoption. It was nerve wracking. And when added to what he’d recently discovered of his origins, it was all proving to be too much.  
  
Thankfully a few days previous, Clark had found the school library. The library was run by a polite and quiet gentlemen: Mr. Giles. He was helpful when necessary and more than willing to allow Clark the privacy of the library once he discovered Clark's appreciation for great literature.  
  
The second time Clark found a pile of books beside him, he wasn't surprised. The first time he'd been engrossed in a classic fairytale, not of the Disney variety. He was pleasantly surprised to find an anthology of classical fairytales and an assortment of related books on the table in front of him when he finally looked up. Mr. Giles had given him a knowing smile before returning to his cataloguing.  
  
Though science fiction was obviously not in Mr. Gile's realm of expertise, Clark was happy to note the pile of books left for him this time were of some repute and he had only read a few of them. Looking forward to reading the rest of the afternoon, his dreams were shattered by the abrupt arrival of one of his classmates.  
  
"Giles!" a blonde from his morning math class stormed into the library, instantly destroying Clark's sense of peace.  
  
Mr. Giles coughed uncomfortably, "Can I help you miss Summers?"  
  
"Feeling the extra tweedy today, Giles?" the blonde replied, before jumping onto a nearby counter. She swung her legs idly, "You haven't called me 'miss' in ages."  
  
To Clark's amusement, the librarian pinched his nose in an obviously irritated manner.  
  
"Yes, is there anything I can help you with, Buffy?" Clark didn't miss the librarian's slight head tilt towards him. That was odd, his tone seemed like he was trying to convey something to Buffy.  
  
Obviously oblivious, the blonde continued, "I was on patrol yesterday. And I found something very hinky-"  
  
"Perhaps, this is something we should discuss in private?" Mr. Giles interrupted, glaring pointedly at her.  
  
"Uh, wha?" Buffy asked confused. Then she noticed Clark, "Oh, yeah. Giles-I mean Mr. Giles, sir. Could I speak to you privately?" Her address of Mr. Giles soundly completely unnatural.  
  
The two scurried into the library's cramped office leaving Clark alone at one of the corner tables. Normally, he wouldn't have pried, but from what Clark understood, it wasn't normal behaviour for a student and faculty member to be alone behind locked doors.  
  
"- so I found something super hinky yesterday."  
  
Clark could almost see the librarian's exasperated face, "So you've already said."  
  
"Well... I found a foot print."  
  
There was dead silence. And then a likely deadpanned, "Really. A footprint."  
  
"Yup," the popped 'p' brought a small smile to Clark's face. Buffy was obviously trying to get a rise out of Mr. Giles.  
  
Focusing his eyes, Clark saw into the office in time to see Giles rubbing his nose bridge. Again.  
  
"And pray, what is the significance of this footprint?"  
  
"Well, there was more than one footprint. There were a whole bunch, really."  
  
Clark almost laughed out loud. "You don't say."  
  
"Yeah, so I decided to follow them."  
  
When Giles sat straighter with interest, Clark interpreted it as a sign that Buffy was finally going to get to the crux of her visit.  
  
"And guess what I found?"  
  
The librarian let out a sigh. "What?"  
  
"Here, let me show you." Her statement was accompanied by the ruffling of her bag.  
  
A moment later, the librarian exclaimed in wonder, "Oh good lord! But how?..."  
  
"They got bitey, and we got in a bit of a fight over it. Then Mr. Sharpy went with the slicing and dicing."  
  
Buffy's flippant attitude was doing little to help Clark understand the situation.  
  
He had to refocus his vision to see into Buffy's bag for an explanation. To say he was surprised would be an understatement.  
  
Mr. Giles' voice was filled with wonder, "So those are really?..."  
  
"Yup," another popped 'p'.  
  
"Th-th-they're-"  
  
"They're dinosaur feet."  
  
"Oh, dear.”  
  
**Dinosaur Feet**


	2. Eggs / Compressed Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some early experiences in Sunnydale for Clark.

* * *

**Eggs**  
  
Although hardly a master chef, Clark would have considered himself savvy in the kitchen and more than passable with egg based dishes. Growing up on a farm he had perfected the fluffiness of his scrambled eggs and the timing of his omelet ingredients; there was little else to know about preparing eggs. Apparently there was more to it.  
  
Californian style Saturday brunch completely shattered his limited concept of the American breakfast. The fresh juice was understandable, but the variety of ingredients in his breakfast quiche blew him away. Looking around the table Clark couldn't help but marvel at the variety of dishes. It made him miss the simple bacon and eggs from back home.  
  
Shaking his head, Clark vainly wished the melancholy away. It wasn't helping that the meal conversation was disturbingly awkward.  
  
Finally, after a few weeks of trying, Martha had finally got in contact with her sister. It seemed like she was constantly touring with her husband, performing lectures at various colleges. Although his mother never said it aloud, Clark had the feeling his mom disapproved of how his cousin was left alone for all of this time.  
  
Ma's silent disapproval compounded by her already cold relationship with Sheila Rosenberg, led to a very frosty brunch. Hence Clark focusing on the food.  
  
"How do you like Sunnydale Clark?" his cousin's voice drew his attention back to the conversation.  
  
"Fine," Clark replied, giving his cousin a warm smile. She gave him a shy one in return. He'd seen her at school at a distance once or twice, but before the meal never put a name to the face. He also knew that that the redhead hung out a lot with Buffy and a male, well those two and her rocker boyfriend. It was slightly surprising as Willow never seemed the type with her pastel coloured sweaters and meek demeanour.  
  
"It's a big change huh?" the redhead asked before widening her eyes in shock, "Not that I meant about your dad, I really didn't mean that. You see I was talking about how you used to live on a farm. But now you're living in suburbia, just a bit from LA. And also, Sunnydale has its share of hinky things going on. And-“  
  
"Willow," chided Sheila, cutting her off.  
  
Martha shot her sister a dirty look. She clearly didn't approve of the tone Sheila took with her daughter.  
  
Trying to prevent another passive aggressive remark, Clark offered, "I knew what you meant Willow," he gave a shrug of his shoulders, "It's a pretty big change, but I'm slowly getting used to it."  
  
His mother shot him a knowing look, while Sheila offered him an approving nod. "It is good you're proving highly adaptive to your situation Clark. Independence is a virtue many children are lacking today."  
  
"We were always proud of Clark," Martha offered, fondly recalling some of her more pleasant memories.  
  
"Well yes, in that respect it seems you and Jon did quite well." And another subtle barb fired.  
  
Attempting to redirect the conversation before turned nasty, Willow offered Clark another question, "What do you like most about school?"  
  
He admitted sheepishly, "I've actually quite enjoyed the time I've spent in the library. The librarian there has been very nice."  
  
"Oh!" A look of dawning understanding spread across the redhead's features, "Buffy was mentioning the other day some kid was in the library when she needed to talk to Giles!"  
  
"You know Mr. Giles too then?" Clark asked curiously, the dinosaur feet in Buffy's bag had been a little odd.  
  
"Yeah! Of course! Buffy, Xander, Giles and I are..." Willow suddenly stopped talking as her enthusiasm turned quickly and confusingly into panic, "Uh- you see, we're all members of the Book Appreciation Club!" Her speech rapidly picked up towards the end. It wasn't very convincing.  
  
Unsurprisingly, Sheila hadn't paid enough attention to notice. She nodded her head in approval, "Sounds like an excellent extracurricular activity. You should help your cousin join the club."  
  
Willow's eyes widened further, reminding Clark of a cartoon character, "Uh-uh. You see... the club is kinda-"  
  
Although confused, Clark decided to spare Willow and cut-in, "It's really not needed, Ms. Rosenberg. I'm just getting used to school and everything..."  
  
"Nonsense," Sheila interrupted, "You're family and Willow would be all too willing to help."  
  
Looking at Willow, Clark thought otherwise, but conceded when she reluctantly nodded, "Well then I appreciate the help Willow."  
  
She gave him a rather weak smile in return.  
  
"Speaking of family... you were going on tour when again?"  
  
Clark rolled his eyes as Willow stifled a giggle. Their mothers were at it again.  
  
.  
  
  
**Compressed Air**  
  
"And that is where the gas safety valve is located in the case of an emergency," droned the chemistry teacher. Clark was bored out of his mind. His cousin, who seemed to be on a mission to make him feel welcome at Sunnydale High, was sitting beside him, with her two close friends sitting on her other side. The rapt attention she paid the teacher was hard for Clark to understand.  
  
"So how do we make fireballs again?" that was Willow's best friend, Xander.  
  
The teacher's glare did nothing to deter his cheeky grin, "The point of this lecture was to prevent that very event from happening," chilling his voice further, he added pointedly, "Perhaps you wouldn't have struggled so much last year if you'd simply paid attention, Mr. Harris."  
  
The teen shivered in mock horror and looked around, "For a moment I thought my dad was here," Xander then tried a disarming smile, "Xander, please, Mr. D."  
  
"That would be Mr. Doushbaag to you, Mr. Harris," Mr. D shot back, completely unamused. Buffy smothered a laugh, which earned her a glare as well, "I fail to see the humour of the situation, Ms. Summers."  
  
Giving her teacher a surprised look, Buffy's face eventually took on a blank smile, "Just enjoying the wonders of physics."  
  
"This is chemistry class."  
  
"Oops," the blonde appeared appropriately contrite.  
  
With a small sigh, Mr. D turned to Willow, "Ms. Rosenberg, I leave these two to you."  
  
"Y-y-y-es sir," she replied softly, trying to hide her pleasure at the implied praise.  
  
"Don't worry, sir! It'll be taken care of sir," Xander mock saluted and Clark silently groaned. Apparently Willow's friends weren't the brightest bulbs. It made him doubt the existence of the Book Appreciation Club all the more.  
  
Mr. D decided Xander wasn't worth the effort and returned to his desk, muttering his discontent. It seemed he shared similar views to Clark, though it was clear no one was meant to hear his words, "-troublesome rabble rousers. Such a waste of Rosenberg's talent."  
  
Clark whispered quietly to Willow while the class worked on the assigned pre-lab, "So could you tell me more about the Book Appreciation Club?"  
  
Giving him Willow's I-am-obviously-bad-at-lying-look, she whispered back, "I'll have to talk to Giles about it. I'll get back to you ok?"  
  
Overhearing their conversation, Xander piped in, "Book club? What book club?"  
  
Buffy who had been lightly resting her head jerked up, "Book club? When did we get a Book Club? And why are we even interested?"  
  
Willow gave them a panicked look, "You know that book club we've been a part of forever..."  
  
She received blank looks.  
  
"... that after school club that sometimes has us spending lots of time in the library after school?..."  
  
They still weren't catching on.  
  
"... the club where we spend lots of time with Giles, researching?..."  
  
Willow looked at them hopefully. Clark saw the proverbial light go off in Buffy's head.  
  
"Oh, that club!" she exclaimed, much to Xander's confusion.  
  
"What cl- ow!" Xander's question was interrupted by a sharp elbow from Buffy. She gestured meaningfully at Clark and then Willow. It still took several seconds before he finally cottoned on.  
  
"Oh yeah, that book club," Xander smiled before mock whispering to Clark, "If you hide the comic properly, no one even knows you're slacking."  
  
"Oh, found this by the way," Buffy spoke up before rifling through her bag. She pulled a Sports Illustrated issue out of her bag. "Found this-" gave Xander a meaningful glare "-during our last club session."  
  
"Um... I bring donuts?" Xander offered, not even trying to defend himself. Adolescent males had needs. Even in the library.  
  
When Buffy finally gave him a begrudging nod, Xander eagerly returned to digging his own grave.  
  
In a hushed and mocking tone he whispered to Clark, "That's the secret to women Clark. Sugar. Once you bring that, they'll all be falling at your feet."  
  
The dismissal bell drowned out his yelp of pain as the rest of the class began to pack up.  
  
Clark decided not to question Willow further about the book club. In his position, he could understand the need for secrets and the last thing he needed was their own curiosity into his life. They didn't need to know that he was much more adept at keeping secrets and lying.  
  
_At least I’m out of chem—well great._  
  
Principal Snyder was waiting outside the classroom door. Clark had previously had the pleasure of meeting the principal when he first transferred. So pleasurable in fact, Clark wished that he'd never see the principal again. Talk about unfulfilled wishes.  
  
"Summers. Harris," the miniature troll sneered. Thankfully it seemed his attention was focused on Willow's friends, "I've got my eyes on you."  
  
_Or not._ "Kent, you're making a poor start if you're hanging with this riff-raff."  
  
Ma Kent had raised him to be a gentleman at all times. "Well sir, Willow is my cousin."  
  
"Ah I see, another sad case." Clark instantly regretted focusing Snyder's attention on his cousin, "I'd hate to see you dragged down like your other family member."  
  
Clark stopped himself from making a rude remark when the principal's stench wafted up his nose. Having superior senses were really disadvantageous most of the time. Fighting the urge to gag, Clark nodded in affirmation.  
  
"You have a good deal of promise Kent. Don't waste it like Rosenberg."  
  
Willow looked like she wanted to object, but Buffy, who was surprisingly calm, stopped her with a quick hand motion. Synder gave the rest of the group an ugly sneer before storming off down the hall.  
  
Not a moment too soon. Clark's nose was twitching in agony. Hopefully with the pungent source safely down the hall, the smell would dissipate. Well, the burning receded to be replaced by an irritating tickle. Unfortunately the tickling continued to build pressure and soon Clark’s nostrils demanded clearing.  
  
Letting out a sneeze, Clark sent a stream of compressed air barreling down the hallway, knocking Principal Snyder flat on his face. The principal quickly righted himself up and looked around, hoping to expel some no-good-hooligan. He glared at the Xander, Buffy, Willow, and Clark for several moments. Unable to fault any of them due to the distance between them, Snyder stormed off in a rage.  
  
Once the principal was safely around the corner, Clark fearfully turned to face Willow and her friends. Xander was doubled over with laughter, but it was Buffy's uncharacteristically serious expression and Willow's unbridled terror which freaked him out.  
  
So he ran.


	3. ??? / Drying Rack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people get to talking...

* * *

It took Clark running past the Sunnydale border to come to some semblance of control.  
  
_Welcome to Sunnydale. Right._  
  
Everything was falling apart. Not even here a full two weeks, but Clark had already revealed part of his extraordinary nature to others. It wasn't like the witness was a traumatized preteen; this time there were three different witnesses and they wouldn’t have trouble discerning the unordinary. It was probably one of the worst times his heritage decided to manifest itself.  
  
He needed to figure out damage control. Willow was family after all, maybe if he could convince her to keep things quiet, she would help with her two friends. Checking his watch, Clark decided if he hurried he could make the school just after the final afternoon bell. He may be able to catch Willow before she left for the afternoon.  
  
Easier thought that done. When Clark finally arrived at the school, he huddled behind some dumpsters at the back of the school. The thought of walking into the school terrified him. What if everyone already knew he was different? Instead of exposing himself to the risk, Clark decided his heritage could both damn him and save him.  
  
Closing his eyes, he practiced what his mother taught him, but instead of focusing for her voice he listened for Willow's. He knew it well enough already. She was in the library talking with her... Book Appreciation Club.  
  
"He ran you say?" the cultured tones of the librarian met Clark's hearing.  
  
"Yeah, you should've seen him run, Giles. One second he's beside us, then poof! He was around the corner." Buffy's apt, but somehow still lacking description made Clark wince for several reasons.  
  
"He was abnormally fast I assume?"  
  
"Not sure G-man," only Xander was capable of that level of casual disrespect. "I was too busy laughing at Snyder."  
  
"He looked terrified," Willow added, in her quiet way, "I think he was worried we'd judge him or freak."  
  
There was a pause, Clark assumed they were in the library and focused his vision to get a better idea of the situation.  
  
Buffy nodded her head at Giles. "I think I might have wigged him out a little. I went all grrr-Buffy on him."  
  
"Well we all know how terrifying grrr-Buffy can be," Giles commented with an amused smile. Clark didn't share his amusement.  
  
"I think it's something that's been bothering him for a long time," Willow voiced her opinion, "He's always been-"  
  
"Wait, it's not the Hellmouth for once?" Xander interjected with a raised hand, "Anyone else confused?"  
  
"Well, I think he's always been a bit of a loner," Willow explained, ignoring Xander for the most part, except to stick her tongue out at him, "And the thing is, he's pretty smart and really really nice."  
  
Clark struggled with his internal emotions. He felt guilty for eavesdropping, but it also concerned his safety and by extension his mother's. Hearing positive things about him, was hardly discouraging either.  
  
"Uh, Willow, that could describe you, you know," Buffy commented, trying not to offend.  
  
The redhead shook her head, "Not just that. He seems much more personable than me, and less shy. He's just... reserved."  
  
"Do you think your cousin is a matter for concern?" Giles asked kindly, though he firmly added afterwards, "Keep in mind, you barely know him."  
  
Willow frowned in deep thought, but Buffy had her own opinion, "I think we should let him be for now. Let live and all that. He seemed just as scared of Willow as me."  
  
"Hey!" the redhead exclaimed, "I can be scary too!"  
  
"Yup, that grrr-Willow is some scary stuff," joked Xander, earning him a second stuck out tongue.  
  
"I'm inclined to agree with that assessment as well. As far as his library visitors go, he's been a model visitor," Giles gave the other three a bit of a glare, "In fact, I would say his manner is far preferable to those of other frequent library guests..."  
  
"Whelp, I know when I'm not wanted," Buffy jumped off what appeared to be her favourite perch on the counter.  
  
"Buffy, you need to give me report for your patrol last night," Giles sighed, clearly exasperated.  
  
Xander and Willow smothered giggles as they gathered their own belongings. Even from the outside of the building, Clark was beginning to recognize a very common pattern between Buffy and Mr. Giles.  
  
"Nope," the popping of the 'p', again, "I know when I'm not wanted."  
  
Giles pinched his nose, "I apologize Buffy. You brighten this dank and dreary library with your very presence.” The mocking in his tone was obvious.  
  
Buffy chose to ignore it, “Well, went on patrol. Met demon. Stabbed it. It did some weird regrow thing. Stabbed and slashed it until it was a pile of gunk.”  
  
Clark’s thoughts on their club continued to change as he listened in to the conversation.  
  
Suddenly concerned, Giles began feverishly flipping through a book in his hands, “Kept regrowing, you say?”  
  
The blonde shrugged her shoulders, “Wasn’t a big deal, sometimes it’d heal, sometimes, it’d just get hurt. I just kept slashing it until it looked like a big green pile of goop."  
  
“Good lord, was it still regenerating?” the librarian asked concerned.  
  
“Not sure. Decided when it was a pile of goop that slashing it wasn’t helping anymore. So pile of green goop met big rock,” Buffy paused as in an afterthought, “It was nasty trying to get the stains out of my pants!”  
  
Giles ran into his office for another thick tome muttering all the while, “That description sounds familiar…”  
  
Xander called after him, “Anything to be worried about G-man?”  
  
As Giles emerged from his office he wore a serious demeanour, “Perhaps,” He offered Buffy a look into a book he had brought out with him, “Does this resemble the demon you fought last night?”  
  
Buffy took a short look, “Yup.”  
  
“Well then, there seems like it will not be bothering us any longer,” Giles gave Buffy a warm smile, “It seems as though you adequately disposed of the K’ole Slaugh Demon.”  
  
Willow piped in, “Nothing to worry about then?”  
  
“None,” Giles offered with the shake of his head, “I would appreciated more detailed reports in the future, Buffy.”  
  
“Huh why?” Buffy asked confused, before defending herself, “It was simple. Went on patrol. Met coleslaw demon. Diced coleslaw demon, before smushing it with a giant rock.”  
  
Giles sighed, “K’ole Slaugh.”  
  
“Gesundheit.”  
  
Clark decided it was time to go. He had a lot to think about and maybe share with his mother. Book Appreciation Club indeed.  
  
**Coleslaw**  
  
.  
  
**Drying Rack**  
  
In the end, Clark was glad he decided to talk to his mother about everything. It made the world less lonely as at least one other person knew what he was going through. It felt good to talk and unsurprisingly, Martha Kent was often offered Clark reasonable suggestions and comfort when he needed it. This time was no exception.  
  
In a stroke of genius, Willow had been invited over for dinner, seeing as her parents were away again. Although it was to be a simple small family dinner, going in, Clark and Martha tried to discuss a plan of attack. Well, more like a plan for diplomacy. Based on what Clark had overheard at the library the previous afternoon, after a full day of avoiding Willow, it’d be good to finally get some things out and in the air.  
  
Clark answered the door with a nervous smile, “Hey Willow, glad you could make it.”  
  
“Hey yourself, thanks for having me,” Willow returned with the same nervous smile. She knew there was more to the meal too.  
  
“Well why don’t you come on in?” Clark asked, gesturing into the house, he frowned when his cousin winced.  
  
“You really shouldn’t invite people into your house,” Willow explained when she noticed his look, “It’s just not safe in Sunnydale to invite people in, especially at night.”  
  
Recalling his run-in with the vampire, Clark decided he needed to brush up on his vampire lore, “I’ll keep that in mind. So, dinner?” He physically waved her in without inviting her this time.  
  
Willow nodded happily and followed him through the foyer into the dining room. His mother had just finished placing her spread and welcomed her niece with a warm smile.  
  
“Hope you brought your appetite, I made plenty.”  
  
Willow made a face, “This is my food face. When I have my food face on, food everywhere should beware!”  
  
Martha gave a small chuckle while Clark shook his head in bemusement. The line was pretty bad.  
  
The redhead’s cheeks blushed to match her hair. The three quickly sat down and began their meal. The conversation was polite, but somewhat terse throughout. The topics ranged from food preparation to the weather in Sunnydale.  
  
Clark, who through the dinner had forgotten their plan for diplomacy, was mentally panicking. His mother kept shooting him meaningful glances, but they did little but add to his anxiety. He didn’t know what to do and based on Willow’s reactions she was expecting either him or his mom to make the first move. This was not going to end well.  
  
“When you are finished, could you two get the dishes? I forgot I was supposed to run an errand for Mr. Smith,” Martha asked, giving Clark a meaningful look. He understood that this was his chance in a lower pressure setting; though honestly, it really didn’t change much, but it might be easier to do this standing.  
  
“I’ll wash, you dry?” Clark offered, standing up.  
  
“Sure, sounds like a good idea,” Willow replied with a small smile. She really was a nice girl.  
  
The two started washing the dishes in silence, filled only with the sounds of the running water. Clark decided if he couldn’t say it, maybe he could demonstrate his differences.  
  
“I think I left a dish on the table. Could you go get it?” Clark asked politely.  
  
Slightly confused, Willow replied, “Ok.”  
  
When Willow made her way back to the sink empty handed, she was even more confused. The drying rack was full and all the dishes were done.  
  
“Wha—how?” she asked.  
  
Clark sighed, “There’s some stuff we need to talk about.”  



	4. ??? / Bull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exploring the night life and meeting Faith.

* * *

It was comforting to know terms had been agreed on and that for the time being, Clark's secret was safe. Willow said she needed to go back discuss things with her 'Book Appreciation Club', but if Clark didn't feel like sharing at the moment, she understood. Though if he wanted into the club, he'd need to open up.  
  
Clark wasn't in a rush to do so. As far as he could determine, their group seemed to be some sort of after school group who possibly took roleplaying games far too seriously. Though considering Buffy, he doubted it were the case. Other possible scenarios were either too farfetched or too disturbing to contemplate. But, not being a member of their book club was not grounds for exclusion apparently. Willow had put on her resolve-face and demanded he accompany and her friends Friday night to the local teen hangout.  
  
The Bronze turned out to be a club. A club full of underage teens, go figure. The music, although surprisingly bearable in volume, was actually pretty terrible musically. The club was about the company, not the music, Clark mused.  
  
"So, enjoying good ole sunnyhell Clark?" Xander quipped, attempting to break the ice.  
  
"Yeah, I guess so," Clark replied. He winced at a terribly played chord, "Though I can't say that about the music."  
  
"That's my band," stated Oz, Willow's boyfriend. He didn't speak much from what Clark could gather.  
  
"Oh, sorry," Clark apologized, he grinned sheepishly, "They're struggling without you?"  
  
"Naw," Oz smiled, "We suck."  
  
Unsure how to respond, Clark turned to Willow. She took the hint and kissed Oz on the cheek. "I think they need your help right now. Being part of the band and all."  
  
The short band member shrugged his shoulders and began to stand up.  
  
"Smoochies," Willow demanded with a stern look.  
  
Oz grinned before giving her a prolonged kiss. "Smoochies." And with that parting word and a lazy wave to the others, he made his way back to the stage.  
  
"So Oz, he’s uh… interesting,” Clark commented, unsure of what to say.  
  
“He’s a man of few words,” Xander replied, “Also, he’s wicked smart.”  
  
“Really?” Clark asked surprised, “Isn’t he repeating his senior year?”  
  
Willow frowned, “He can be a little lazy.”  
  
Xander raised his hand, “I claim the title of the laziest for the Scoobies.”  
  
“The Scoobies?” Clark asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“It’s the name of our group,” Willow provided, at her cousin’s look she explained, “Xander chose it.”  
  
Clark nodded sagely, “Makes perfect sense now. I should have known.”  
  
Xander nodded, “Exactly.” Then he processed Clark’s tone, “Hey! Are you trying to imply something?”  
  
“Clark? No way,” Willow replied for him, hiding a smile, “Clark doesn’t have a mischevious bone in his body.”  
  
Unable to trust himself out loud, Clark just nodded in agreement.  
  
“Where’s Buffy with those drinks?” Xander complained, “I keep getting ganged up on here.”  
  
“Because she’d back you up and not gang up on you?” Willow asked.  
  
Her friend crossed his arms in response, “Hey, a guy just might want to appreciate a good drink.”  
  
Clark shifted uncomfortably at this. The fact that the local hang out for the high school kids was a bar didn’t sit well with him. As far as he was aware no one was of age and his parents had apparently raised him conservatively, at least compared to his fellows from California.  
  
“Here we go!” Buffy announced her return by unceremoniously dumping all the drinks onto the table. “Clark I got this for you. I’m not sure what you’d like but you can always get something else after.”  
  
Clark looked down at his drink. It was clear. No indication there. Here goes nothing.  
  
And then he exclaimed his surprise, “It’s water!”  
  
“Well duh, did you think they actually served booze to minors?”  
  
Xander added helpfully, “I’ve got kool-aid.”  
  
**Water**  
  
.  
  
**Bull**  
  
“Bull.”  
  
Clark started in surprise, “Excuse me?”  
  
“I’m saying bull shit. You ain’t human,” the brunette replied, crossing her arms.  
  
It started as another restless night, listening to Sunnydale’s night life and the sounds of probably yet another vampire attack. But finally, Clark decided he’d had enough inaction and this time he was going to do something.  
  
But the sounds were different this time. What started as a typical vampire attack soon morphed into a brawl, between equals. No, the victim was winning.  
  
Surprised, Clark turned the corner of the alley in time to see the brunette slam a large stake into the vampire’s chest before it disintegrated into dust. She was short, but very attractive. Her natural curves were accentuated by the leather pants she wore.  
  
Noticing his arrival, the brunette had greeted him with a predatory gaze, examining him. Before Clark could think properly, she charged him and slammed him roughly into the wall.  
  
“I’m hungry and horny,” she drawled, tracing her finger down his chest, “You’ll do.”  
  
Shocked, Clark shoved her back with a lot more force than necessary. He winced the moment she impacted the other side, creating a crack in the brickwork.  
  
“Are you ok?” Clark asked, extremely worried for her safety, but still too terrified to move.  
  
The brunette slowly stood up, taking great effort to loosen and crack her joints. Her glare was extremely hostile.  
  
“What’re you?” she spat, the venom clear in her voice.  
  
Intimidated, Clark stuttered, “I-I-I’m a man. Just thought I heard a fight.”  
  
“Bull,” her stance relaxed slightly.  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
Clark stopped paying attention to her words as she crossed her arms. The position of her arms emphasized her ample cleavage. The fact that her top had been torn in the brawl allowed Clark a clear look at her bra.  
  
Completely embarrassed, he stared downwards.  
  
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she demanded, she sounded less hostile and more amused.  
  
Still staring at the ground, Clark gestured with his hand towards her body, “Your shirt got ripped.”  
  
“So?” she paused, probably checking herself out, “What’s your issue?”  
  
“Your bra is showing,” Clark replied, feeling his face heat once more.  
  
“Shit.”  
  
The seriousness of her voice brought Clark’s attention back up; she was smiling, “Never seen a pair as awesome as mine?” She pushed up her bust for emphasis.  
  
Clark looked back down again. He mumbled his response, “Never seen anyone’s before.”  
  
“No shit,” she sounded thoughtful.  
  
Clark began sweating bullets as he heard her foot steps approach. He wasn’t scared for his physical safety per say, but she was a sort of person he’d never actually dealt with before.  
  
When she grabbed his ass, he yelped, “Uh, sorry miss, but I don’t know you.”  
  
She gave a throaty laugh, “I ain’t no proper miss. Name’s Faith.”  
  
“Well Faith… I’m sure you’re amazing—“  
  
“You have no idea, I’d blow your mind,” she interrupted.  
  
Clark persisted, “But I’m not interested.” He looked up to meet her eyes.  
  
“Bull.”


	5. Hand / Card

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark and Faith get to know one another.

* * *

**Hand**  
  
He couldn’t get her out of his head.  
  
And it was showing.  
  
“Clark? Is everything alright dear?” his mom was concerned with his lapses in concentration.  
  
It was kind of hard to feel the cold smoothness of the dishes when his hand remembered the warm soft feeling of her—  
  
“Clark!” his mom startled him out of yet another recollection.  
  
He still had the semblance of mind to look sheepish, “Sorry Ma, just thinking about something.”  
  
“Something, or someone?” Martha smirked.  
  
“What makes you say that Ma?” Clark asked, trying to hide his surprise. _There’s no way she can know what happened!_  
  
“Last time I saw you look like that, was when Lana kissed you on cheek,” his mother explained, grinning as he blushed, “You’re really quite obvious. So who’s the lucky lady?”  
  
Clark began washing the dish in his hands, “Her name’s Faith.”  
  
“Faith? Haven’t heard you mention her before,” his mother sounded puzzled, “What’s her last name?”  
  
Clark’s hand’s stopped itching for her skin. In fact, his hand seemed to stop functioning altogether. Turning in surprise, Clark turned to look at his mother and dropped the dish. He felt something inside him shatter in sync with the plate.  
  
“I don’t know.” Ma and Pa had raised him better than that. How could he have let things go that far when he didn’t even know her last name? He didn’t know anything about her for that matter. He let all his inhibitions fly straight out the window.  
  
_Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_ What if he’d lost control? He was far stronger than a normal human and though she demonstrated some extraordinary abilities of her own, Clark didn’t doubt he could still have crushed her in the throes of passion.  
  
Clark flinched away from his mother’s comforting hand.  
  
“Clark?...”  
  
Clark shook his head before he turned to his mother, “I need to go Ma. There’s something I have to do.”  
  
For several seconds they stared at each other. Finally Martha asked, “Be safe ok?”  
  
_Too late for that,_ “I’ll be careful Ma.”  
  
Martha nodded and Clark was already running for the door before her words caught up with him, “I love you sweetie.”  
  
Within a few minutes Clark found himself in a familiar alley. In the fading light of the day, he could see the aftermath of his encounter with Faith. Cracked brick and mortar littered the floor and Clark found remnants of Faith’s bra, much to his embarrassment, it was shredded. Running his hand along the wall, Clark got flashes of the previous evening, full of passion and lust.  
  
The experience had been new, foreign, alien even, but the ignoring the vampire, his experience with Faith was so very human. And he couldn’t regret it. He may have some regrets as to the circumstances leading to the encounter and how it had ended, but he couldn’t spurn their shared experience and the connection they’d shared, however fleeting and transient it may have been. But he knew it shouldn’t end there and he needed to see her again, if just to talk.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Clark picked up her scent. It was a mix of leather, sweat, blood, musk, and well, sex. Despite the weirdness of the situation, he decided to go for broke and followed her trail to outside a dirty, rundown motel.  
  
Walking tentatively up to the door, Clark knocked softly.  
  
He heard a groan.  
  
He knocked again.  
  
“I’ve already paid for two more days.”  
  
He cleared his throat before he knocked again, “Faith?”  
  
A small stream of expletives turned Clark’s ears red as he heard her fumble with her clothes and then the door.  
  
She was a painful sight to behold. Her eyes were bloodshot and the stench of alcohol clung to her like a second skin.  
  
“You were fun enough, but we’ve had our fun already,” she slurred. She sounded both angry and happy to see him, “We’re done here lover boy.”  
  
“My name is Clark, Clark Kent,” Clark offered out his hand. He’d come here for a reason after all.  
  
“What the fuck are you playing at?” Faith exclaimed staring at his hand, “We’ve already both gotten what we want. Why are you still here?”  
  
“I want to get to know you Faith, even just a little,” Clark offered his reasoning, “I’d just like to talk for a bit.”  
  
“Shit, you’re some kind of pussy aren’t you,” Faith asked blearily before smirking, “Actually, can’t say that after last night.”  
  
Clark blushed, but managed not to look away from her gaze, “I’d like to be your friend Faith.” He once again offered his greeting.  
  
“No one wants to be my friend,” Faith retorted, “They just get hurt.”  
  
“In case you haven’t noticed, Faith, I’m pretty durable,” Clark replied. He refused to retract his hand.  
  
“Seems like we both can take a poundin’.”  
  
Clark groaned, “Does everything have to be innuendo with you?”  
  
Faith was silent for a long time, staring at his hand, “I don’t do this.”  
  
“Do what?”  
  
“Friends,” she explained, uncharacteristically quiet.  
  
“I promise I don’t bite,” Clark joked. Then he saw her shit-eating grin and groaned. He set himself up there.  
  
To his surprise she took his hand instead and gently shook it, “Faith. Just Faith.”  
  
.  
  
**Card**  
  
“So, what’s up with your mojo?” Faith asked lazily as they continued playing their game of poker. She had insisted on the strip variation, but Clark had stuck to his guns and argued for a more PG version. In the end she agreed, but only because he agreed to take off his shirt. Clark felt kind of exposed.  
  
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Clark replied, trying to read her face. Faith was an excellent poker player; he was not.  
  
“Don’t give me that same shit from yesterday. I know human, and you’re something else,” Faith replied, her face completely unreadable.  
  
“I already told you. My name’s Clark and I recently moved here from Kansas,” Clark replied, he decided his pair kings were likely to trump whatever she had, “Raise ten.”  
  
“Call,” Faith countered, “And you’ve talked about your ma a lot. Mentioned your pa a little, but that doesn’t tell me what you are.”  
  
“What about you?” Clark shot back, “Most people don’t throw vampires around like they’re nothing.”  
  
His poker opponent smirked in return, “I’m just that kick-ass.”  
  
Still a pair kings with the next card. It was still a strong hand.  
  
“Raise another ten,” Clark stated, trying to keep his face bland, “And you know what I mean Faith. But I don’t think it really matters. I’d like to know more about you, but I respect that you may have secrets.”  
  
Faith shrugged, “Don’t know much about you, but hey, I won’t dig if you won’t.”  
  
“You’re going down by the way,” Clark smiled when a second three was revealed, “Raise twenty.”  
  
“Aren’t you full of somethin’?” Faith asked, her confidence shining through. In fact, her shit-eating grin was back…  
  
Clark wasn’t normally one to cheat, but Faith’s naggingly good luck was more than a little questionable.  
  
“Don’t even think about it,” Clark said, raising an eyebrow, “I can see the cards hidden in your pockets.”  
  
“Who me?” Faith’s innocent look, didn’t even look innocent.  
  
“Faith, I can see the pair of aces you have,” Clark replied with a deadpan.  
  
“Hm… got x-ray vision or something?” Faith asked, pulling the cards out of her pocket, pursing her lips. It may have been a pout on anyone else, but with her lips, it just wouldn’t be.  
  
Stunned Clark replied, “Something like that,” he covered his eyes with his hands, “I can’t believe I just slipped like that.”  
  
“No big,” Faith’s reply was comfortably nonchalant. Just a small shrug of her shoulders, “Actually sounds wicked.”  
  
“Thanks,” Clark smiled. He felt comfortable with Faith.  
  
“Ever peak at a girl’s undies?”  
  
Sometimes.


	6. Bow / Sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weapons get experimented and played with.

* * *

**Bow**  
  
Clark was walked into the library, hoping to return Ender’s Game to Giles. His entry was greeted with a loud. **_Thunk!_**  
  
“Excellent shot Buffy,” Giles commended, not yet noticing Clark.  
  
Buffy however was not as happy, “I missed.” She pouted as she examined her shot.  
  
Giles reassured her, “It seems like a bullseye to me Buffy.”  
  
Clark focused his own vision to see, yes the shot hit the bullseye mark, but it was off center.  
  
“Take a closer look,” the blonde replied, before turning to their visitor, “Hey Clark! What brings you to home of all that is boring?”  
  
Clark waved his borrowed book as Giles spluttered at his presence, “Just returning a book that Mr. Giles let me borrow.” He also shot Mr. Giles and amused look, “And don’t worry, Willow and I have an agreement in terms of your Book Appreciation Club.”  
  
“Oh really,” the librarian began cleaning his glasses furiously, “Would you be so kind as to tell me what you know?”  
  
“Oh!” Buffy interjected, “I was supposed to tell you about it earlier.”  
  
Giles glared at Buffy while Clark smothered a laugh.   
  
“Oh really?” the mocking tone of Giles’ question was enough to chastise Buffy. Kind of.  
  
“Oops?” the blonde offered.  
  
Shaking his head, the librarian refocused his attention on Clark, “Have you discussed with Willow your peculiar abilities then?” His tone was understandably curious.  
  
Shifting nervously, Clark replied, “Actually, that was part of the agreement. I’d share things about myself at my own pace and she’d do the same about your after school group.”  
  
“Ah I see,” Giles’ frown indicated he was not necessarily happy with this agreement. Deep in thought he asked a second question, “Are you then aware of the source of your abilities?”  
  
Meeting him straight in the eye, Clark replied, “I am, sir.”  
  
The two stared each other down, until Buffy decided the atmosphere was too boring to stand. “I can smell the testestotone from here.”  
  
Clark automatically corrected, “Testosterone,” while Giles smothered a smile and replaced his glasses.  
  
“Well then,” Clark turned to look at Mr. Giles again. He received a warm smile, “It seems like we’re just going to have to learn to trust each other now, doesn’t it?”   
  
Clark appreciated the gesture and smiled in return, “It seems so.” He put the book onto the counter, “It was a good read.”  
  
“Hurrah!” Buffy mock cheered, “Let’s hold hands and sing Kumbayah!”  
  
Clark was learning sometimes that Giles’ reprimanding glare was not enough.   
  
“What?” the blonde asked, intentionally oblivious.  
  
“Nothing,” the librarian sighed, admitting defeat once again.  
  
“So, do crossbows work on vampires?” Clark asked curiously.  
  
Buffy replied with a head bob while Giles once again rubbed his glasses, “You know about vampires?”  
  
The teen nodded his head in acknowledgement “I’ve had a few run-ins…”  
  
This time it was the blonde who was curious, “And you got away?”  
  
“You could say that,” Clark rubbed the back of his neck. He was normally a better liar.  
  
“Buffy,” the librarian reprimanded her verbally, “Mr. Kent will share with us when he is ready.”  
  
“Whatever,” she replied with a shoulder shrug, “Wanna take a shot?” She offered her crossbow.  
  
“Err… I’ve only ever shot a gun before. I wasn’t very good. Never a crossbow,” Clark replied, carefully taking the weapon from her hands.  
  
“Just treat it with the same caution as any firearm and it’ll be fine,” Giles offered. He was staring intently as Buffy talked Clark through cocking the crossbow. He did it easily. The librarian coughed into his hand and commented, “I thought you’d be interested to know that crossbow is calibrated for Buffy’s strength.”  
  
Clark was confused, “What does that mean?”  
  
“No big,” Buffy replied, ignoring the Englishman’s implication, “Here take the shot.”  
  
The shot missed the target altogether.  
  
“Maybe you should try a bow…” Giles offered politely.  
  
“Or you know, don’t shoot in general,” Cordelia offered as she walked in examining Clark’s shot. Her snarky entrance did not give the best first impression.  
  
When everyone stared she touched her face, “Is there something on my face?”  
  
.  
  
 **Sword**  
  
“Everything ok?” Clark stood up surprised at Faith’s state. She’d given him the go ahead to wait up if she wasn’t around; she never bothered locking the door.  
  
Her lips were cut and she was holding her arm in a definitively pained manner. Her clothes were torn and her arm smeared with blood. Her tank was soaked and her hair matted down with sweat. She’d definitely had better nights.  
  
She grinned, “Yo, things are going grand.”  
  
Worriedly Clark stood up to help her. She waved him down.  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” when she saw his worry, her expression softened, “Toss me a beer now will ya?”  
  
Clark wasn’t sure of her age, but he knew she wasn’t legal; it didn’t seem to stop her from drinking though. He rummaged in the mini-fridge before throwing her a can of Bud and brought the rest of the six-pack with him. He took a seat beside her.  
  
Knowing she didn’t want to be coddled, Clark asked, “What happened?”  
  
“Kicked some ass,” she shot him a look, “Then kicked some more ass.”  
  
“Was it vampires again?” Clark asked. He was starting to guess that Faith’s nightly activities seemed to revolve around them.  
  
For a moment, Faith didn’t answer, but after a deep breath she answered.  
  
“He was a tough mother fucker. His name was Kakistos,” unbidden, her eyes started to water. She began rubbing them, “Fuck.”  
  
“Hey,” Clark’s instinctively tried to pull her into a hug. At first she resisted, but her struggles were half-hearted. She pushed him with her forearms, but with a small comforting sound, Clark was able to get her to relax.   
  
He rubbed his hand gentle circles on her back as tears fell silently down her face.  
  
“That monster killed Diana,” Faith whispered eventually. Her voice was hoarse despite never crying aloud.  
  
Clark felt his chest tighten. Unsure on how to respond he said, “I don’t normally support underage drinking but…” He cracked open a second beer, “To Diana.”  
  
Faith gave Clark a blank stare before laughing heartily. The laughter threatened to dissolve into sobs, but she brightened. Raising her own beer, she shouted, “To Diana. The best mother fucking Watcher a Slayer could ask for.”  
  
Rather than prying about the obviously capitalized terms, Clark offered, “Lost my Pa recently. He meant the world to me.”  
  
“Sucks,” Faith commented, sipping on her own beer. She suddenly spun around and forced his back to the ground. She immediately proceeded to straddle him.  
  
“Slaying vamps always works me up,” she explained, her eyes half-lidded. “We done with this emotional stuff?”  
  
Clark felt his body responding to her closeness and nodded numbly.  
  
“This never happened ok?” she stared into his eyes, waiting for his response.  
  
He nodded again, trying to show he was clear headed.  
  
“Good. Time for some sword play.”  
  
She was a constant sort of confusion. “Sword play?”  
  
“Yeah,” Faith grinned, “I play with your sword.”  
  
Clark didn’t know if he groaned in excitement or lament. Probably excitement.


	7. Stomach / Sheep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The importance of food is discussed.

* * *

**Stomach**  
  
“You ever catch kids doing the horizontal two-step out here?” Faith asked curiously as they patrolled one of Sunnydale’s parks.  
  
“Naw. The main smooch spot is closer to the woods,” Buffy replied, she looked at her fellow slayer, “Why’d you ask?”  
  
The brunette shrugged in return, “Told ya, slayin’ works a gal up. And now that we’re done with the vamps…”  
  
“Ew,” the blonde shot back, scrunching her nose in reply, “I remember. Hungry and horny.”  
  
“Yeah? Ever take Scott out to fiddle with his gear shift?” Faith’s eyebrows wiggled suggestively as if her tone wasn’t suggestive enough already.  
  
“Hardly. We’ve only been out a few times,” Buffy replied.  
  
“So? You like him, right? He gives you that good, down low tickle?” her sister-in-arms shot back.  
  
“Well, yeah. I—“ the blonde paused for a moment and turned to look at Faith, “How low?”  
  
Faith wore a very smarmy smirk, “You tell me.”  
  
“How ‘bout not?” Buffy replied, before turning the tables on Faith, “How about you? Got any stud muffin waiting in the stables?”  
  
“What’re you on about?” the brunette demanded. Buffy didn’t catch onto to her uncharacteristical defensiveness, “I find a stud, use ‘em and discard ‘em like old hankies.”  
  
Buffy frowned, “Guys are more than just hot bodies.”  
  
“Not after a good slayin’,” Faith shot back, “They’re just there to help scratch an itch.”  
  
The blonde sighed, “Ever think about anything other than your low down tingles?”  
  
“Did I mention hungry?” the brunette asked, “Cause good food works too.”  
  
“Speaking of which, mom has a snack waiting for me. Interested?” Buffy offered.  
  
Faith shook her head in response, “Got some grub waiting on me, back at my place.”  
  
“See you tomorrow then?” Buffy began to turn the corner as they split.  
  
“Yeah, sounds good,” Faith replied before making her way back to the motel. Her trip back was unusually contemplative.  
  
Things with Clark were new and unsurprisingly frightening. Having been alone for a long time, Faith grew up alone or she was punished for trusting people. Diana changed that, but unfortunately she was no longer in the picture.  
  
Clark posed a problem. The short time he’d spent with Faith went to challenge her realistic view of men and their bestial natures and his treatment of her threatened to give her something she thought long impossible: hope. Bonding with Buffy and her friends was nice, but it was Clark who she found herself thinking more and more about. Clark was just different from any other man in Faith’s life.  
  
He came back. He refused to be thrown out after a single use and somehow he was naïve as fuck. It wasn’t strange that he let Faith take charge, lots of guys let her do her thing—she was damned good at it, but, he felt normal around her and it showed. Despite whatever weirdness he had going on and despite her being a Slayer, when they were together, they were both just human. And it terrified her that she might be losing her edge, the thing that made her Faith.  
  
She opened to door to the warm aroma of her evening meal.  
  
“Shit, smells amazing,” Faith commented, taking in the spread on the table. She stuck her fingers in the mashed potatoes, “Still hot too.”  
  
Clark grinned sheepishly, “I heard you coming so I heated it up for you.”  
  
“Didn’t know the room had a microwave,” she commented looking around the room.  
  
Clark coughed to get her attention. He then made a gesture from his eyes to the food. He made the motion a few times before Faith gasped in understanding.  
  
She grinned, “Wicked.” He was trusting her, _her_ of all people with yet another secret about him and it felt too damn good to be normal. He was fucking with her mind too.  
  
She sauntered up to him, ensuring to sway her hips as she did. The way his eyes seemed to bulge with every step was fun; what might happen after, well that was just whipped cream on top.  
  
“Did I ever mention how I get after slaying?” Faith whispered gently playing with his chin.  
  
“Hungry? Made it myself,” Clark offered, quickly regaining his composure. Damnit, he was learning.  
  
“You know the saying about aiming low and all that?” Faith asked as she pressed her body up to his. Her face reached his chest, so she looked up at him.  
  
Obviously unable to speak properly, Clark nodded. Good to know her boobs still counted for something.  
  
“Well, by the end of tonight…” as she drew out her whisper, Faith traced his cheek, “You’ll have nailed me. Twice.”  
  
He was confused. Good. “Twice?”  
  
“In the gut and…” she stood on her toes to blow the last words gently in his ear, “… down low.” Then she added for good measure, “Or, enough times until you drop.”  
  
Before he could reply, Clark’s stomach decided to growl loudly and the sexual tension snapped. He laughed easily, “Looks like we’re gonna take care of our stomachs first.”  
  
Faith shot him a sultry glare and pressed against him for good measure; Clark blushed in response.  
  
“Sounds good,” she gently pushed off him and took a seat.  
  
As she began sampling the food, she made sure to savour the food as vocally as possible. She smiled to herself as a flustered Clark struggled to get himself seated and start eating himself.  
  
Damn. She still had it.  
  
.  
  
  
**Sheep**  
  
Clark wasn’t sure how he felt about being able to lock onto Faith’s heartbeat from halfway across town. At least he knew for sure it was shocking to find her in the library. Opening the door, he saw her bopping around and occasionally bouncing her head up and down. It looked like she was listening to her Walkman.  
  
Clark reached over to tap her on her shoulder.  
  
_Bam!_  
  
He went flying onto a nearby table, thankfully not damaging anything. Clark however, was thoroughly winded. As he struggled to breath, Faith took her headphones out and quickly ran over to check on him.  
  
“Clark! Are you okay?” she asked, placing a hand gently on his chest, “What are you doing here?”  
  
“Hold. On. One. Second,” Clark wheezed and sat up halfway, “I think. I’m going. To need. You to kiss, it better.”  
  
Knowing he was going to be ok allowed Faith a smirk, “Looks like someone’s finally learning how to get what he wants,” but she was still worried and added, “I’m so sorry. You surprised me.”  
  
Finally able to breath properly, Clark replied, “Don’t worry about it. I actually came to ask you something.”  
  
“How’d you find me?” she asked, puzzled.  
  
Clark was reluctant to say it, but this was Faith. He could try spinning it, “I listened for your heart.”  
  
“Woah now. Don’t get all sappy on me yet, lover boy,” she shot back, hiding any discomfort she may have had at the idea. “So did you actually use some super-listening? Or do you spend your nights in the library?”  
  
Clark shook his head at the second question, “I didn’t even realize you could get into the library at night.” He gave a self-depreciating smile, “I used my,” he air quoted, “super-listening.”  
  
“Wicked,” Faith returned his grin, completely unperturbed, “So what’s up?”  
  
Now the hard part.  
  
“Uh, how do you like lamb?” Clark asked, tentatively.  
  
The female brunette was obviously confused about his question, “You mean, the meat?”  
  
“Yeah, lamb,” he replied. She would not see this coming.  
  
“Wait, you’re asking if I like sheep meat?” Faith asked, still confused, “I like any meat,” then she flashed him a grin, “Including sausage. What’s going on?”  
  
“Well…” Clark figured he better get it over with, “My mom wants to meet you.”  
  
“Say what?” Faith shrieked, disturbing the wolfed-out Oz.  
  
Oz scrambled violently against the cage for a moment before giving up and returning to comfortable sleeping position on the floor.  
  
Clark stared at the cage, only noticing Oz after his display, “Do I even want to know?”  
  
Faith shrugged her shoulders, “Doubt it. But it’s why I’m here.”  
  
Sunnydale was just getting too weird to ignore anymore. Clark sighed, “You’re not part of the Book Appreciation Club, are you?”  
  
“What the fuck are you on?”  
  
“Didn’t think so,” Clark replied, but then explained, “You ever do stuff with Willow? Buffy? Xander?”  
  
“Oh, you mean the ‘Scoobies’,” Faith said. She gave him a nod, “We do stuff together sometimes.”  
  
Clark rubbed his forehead in thought, “Looks like I’ll be having that talk with Willow, sooner rather than later.”  
  
“Red? Why’d you need to talk to her?” Faith seemed more than just curious for his answer.  
  
He smiled, “She’s my cousin.”  
  
“You’re shitting me,” she replied.  
  
“Anyways, getting back to why I’m here,” Clark needed to get this sorted, “Mom wants to meet you.” At Faith’s look he quickly reassured her, “I haven’t told her anything about you. Well us, really. She just knows I’ve been spending a lot of nights out with you and she’d like to get to know you…”  
  
Faith turned away, focusing her stare at the ceiling, “Clark. I’ve already told you, I can’t do us. I don’t know how to do us.”  
  
“I have no idea either,” That got her attention. “But why don’t we just take this one step at a time?” Clark offered, “I’m just asking for a dinner with my mom. It doesn’t have to be us and Ma. It can be, Clark, Faith, and Martha just having dinner together.”  
  
Faith stared silently at Clark until a loud _Bang!_ echoed throughout the library.  
  
The two turned to see Buffy walk in. “What?” the blonde asked, clearly surprised by the attention.  
  
Glad for the brief interruption, Clark motioned at the cage with a smirk, “Book Appreciation Club night?”  
  
Like a deer caught in headlights, Buffy stammered for an answer, “Uh-uh-uh.” She just gave up, “Clark? Meet Wolfy. Wolfy meet Clarky.”  
  
Faith raised an eyebrow, “Clark-ey?”  
  
“Sure, why not?” Buffy shrugged her shoulders as Clark desperately tried to get her to stop, “Wills said that’s what he used to be called all the time when he was younger.”  
  
Clark moaned in despair as Faith tried her hardest to not laugh in front of Buffy.  
  
“What’s going on anyways?” the blonde had no idea why Clark would be in the library at night.  
  
“I was swapping a book that Mr. Giles suggested I could read,” Clark lied smoothly, he shrugged his shoulders, “He mentioned that the library was open pretty much all the time, so I thought I’d just drop by and then I ran into Faith.”  
  
“Well Faith, I came to get some French homework done,” Buffy shrugged her shoulders, “I figured you’d like to swap off. Maybe walk Clark home?” she was obviously suggesting this for Clark’s protection. It didn’t seem like she’d clued in on the atmosphere she’d interrupted.  
  
“Wicked, I can get some…s- _layin_ ’ tonight,” Faith grinned at the emphasized wording. Clark tried to keep his face calm.  
  
Faith gathered her stuff together and Clark offered the brunette her jacket. She accepted it with a small smile and the two made their way to the library doors.  
  
“Have a good night Buffy,” Clark gave her a small wave.  
  
Faith didn’t bother to turn around; she just raised one of her hands, “What he said.”  
  
As the two walked out of the library, Buffy managed to catch the start of their conversation.  
  
“Clark?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“I can do sheep.”  
  
Needless to say, Buffy was thoroughly confused.


	8. Guitar / Carnival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting family and dealing with vampires.

* * *

**Guitar**  
  
"Nice to meet you Mrs. Kent," Faith greeted outside the new Kent household. Clark had better appreciate of the effort she put in. Instead of her usual leather bottoms, she was wearing a reasonably nice pair of dark jeans with a top she 'borrowed' from Buffy.  
  
Martha smiled warmly at her, "Call me Martha, please. Come on in Faith."  
  
Faith gave Clark a little glare as he winced at the verbal invitation. He still hadn't gotten around to talking to his mom about safety measures in Sunnydale. It needed to happen soon.  
  
Although some of the house was packed in boxes, Faith took it all in. It looked all proper, but not stiff: it was soft and homelike. There were a few pictures in clean frames of Clark when he was younger and with his parents. Based on his size and the joy she saw on Martha's face, those were probably his first steps. The kindly looking man throwing a football with Clark in a second picture was probably Pa Kent. Faith only noticed her tears when Clark gently touched her shoulder.  
  
"You ok?" he whispered quietly, having seen her taking in all their photos in the hall. He would've left her alone, but he noticed the tears.  
  
She swiped angrily at her eyes, "You were so happy."  
  
"I had the best parents I could ask for growing up," Clark agreed softly, "Even when I started to develop my abilities. These past few years, my parents have been completely supportive.  
  
"Sometimes, I wonder if the world is against me, you know?" Faith asked quietly, leaning into him.  
  
"Faith," Clark whispered softly into her hair.  
  
"Mhm?" for once she didn't fight their level of intimacy.   
  
"You know how I miss Pa?" he asked.  
  
She sighed softly, "Seems like he was a killer dad."  
  
"He was great, but he wasn't perfect," Clark replied, thinking of a few arguments they’d had over the past few years. He pulled Faith in closer, "But it's the first time since he passed, that I've been happy. Do you know why?"  
  
Faith didn't try to look up. She didn't dare to hope. "Why?"  
  
Clark gently spun her around to look her in the eyes, "You."  
  
"Shut up," she replied automatically. There was no venom in her voice.  
  
"I'm serious, Faith." And his eyes said he was. She looked away.  
  
Then she punched him in the shoulder. Hard.  
  
"Ow! What was that for?" Clark rubbed his shoulder, looking surprised, "That hurt!"  
  
She grinned, she was feeling much better, "Deal with it."  
  
Noticing her amusement, Clark dropped the hitch in his shoulder. He grinned in return, "You know, before we get into the rough stuff, we need a safe word."  
  
This brought a loud laugh out of Faith, "I'll make a man out of you yet, lover boy."  
  
"Clark!" that was his mother calling for him, "Dinner's ready! Come set the table."  
  
Clark smiled at Faith, "I'm counting on it," when she returned the look he waved them into the kitchen, "Come on, before Ma gets testy."  
  
A warm kitchen furnished with many eathern colours greeted the pair as they walked in.  
  
"Testy am I?" Martha was wearing a sardonic grin as she took the lamb out of the oven. "Clark could you get our nice dinnerware out?"  
  
Clark grinned, "Testy? I'd never suggest you could ever get testy." He moved about the kitchen laying out some cutlery and dishes.  
  
To Faith it was all too surreal, the ease at which Clark and his mother spoke. And the way Martha had just welcomed her as though it were no big deal. She reminded Faith a lot of Buffy's mom, Joyce. Despite putting her past behind her, Faith couldn't help but be slightly angry at her own mother.  
  
"Faith, dear?" Martha helped snap her out of it, "Would you like to take a seat? We're ready to begin."  
  
She sat down and the three began eating their meal. It was certainly amazing and Faith couldn't resist but point out, how it was better than Clark's own cooking.  
  
"Hey! Let's see you do any better!" Clark complained, mock hurt.  
  
"I'm sure I can microwave better than the rest of them," Faith shot back. She noticed Martha get suddenly serious; she was sharp and may have realized Faith wasn't living it up all fancy-like. The slayer returned Martha's look, unwilling to back down. She didn't need anyone's help and as shitty as her situation was, she'd get through it.  
  
Martha's features softened, though her look promised that the subject would be revisited, "Clark ever tell you he knows how to play the guitar?"  
  
"Woah, you a closet rocker?" Faith asked, teasing him.  
  
Clark shook his head, "Pa taught me." The table retook its somber tone.  
  
"That he did..." Martha recalled, a small smile on her face. Her next question lightened the mood, "Did we ever tell you how he proposed?"  
  
"No," her son replied, suddenly interested. Faith could see this meant a lot to him.  
  
"He wrote me a song," Martha gave Clark a sardonic grin, "He used to be such a playboy."  
  
"No shi-" Faith caught Martha’s stern look look, "I mean, him? Mr. All-American-Father?"  
  
Martha giggled, much to her son's dismay. "He was a real ladies' man."  
  
At this point Clark turned beet red. Both females noticed and gave him a questioning look.  
  
"I remember Pa telling me something."  
  
His mother gave him a pointed look.   
  
"He said I'd understand one day," Clark continued, somewhat reluctant, "He said if I learned it right, that clothing would just come off."  
  
Martha began to laugh as Faith smirked, "And?"  
  
"... that's when he gave me his guitar."  
  
.  
  
 **Carnival**  
  
“Mr. Giles.”   
  
The librarian looked up from the telephone to greet Clark. His phone messages could wait, “Hello, Mr. Kent. Shouldn’t you be enjoying the homecoming festivities in the gym?”  
  
Clark shuddered, “I’m still scarred from Buffy and Cordelia trying to tear me in two.”  
  
Giles gently resettled his glasses, “Well yes, the two did get rather over enthusiastic didn’t they?” He picked up a book to appear busy, “How can I help you?”  
  
“Actually, I was hoping to get you alone so we could talk,” the boy was clearly nervous, so the librarian pretended to be only mildly interested.  
  
“Oh?” A well thought out, cocked eyebrow would not show Clark how eagerly he’d been awaiting this conversation.  
  
“Well you see…” Any moment now…  
  
 _Bam!_  
  
Giles cursed when he saw two vampires storm into the library. _Bloody rotten luck._ Throwing caution to the wind, he reached under the counter and tossed an axe to Clark and gave him some vampire basics.  
  
“Decapitation, fire, or wood to the heart.”  
  
“Sir?” Clark asked clearly confused, he looked up to see the Stetson wearing vampire advance confidently.  
  
 _Bugger this._ “Vampires Clark!” Giles brought up a sword for himself, “Aim for the neck!”  
  
With a yell, the librarian charged the female vampire, who candidly back-handed him. Odd how solid the wall looked as you flew headfirst into it.  
  
“Nice hit Candy!” the male vampire yelled.  
  
Clark watched in horror as the female vampire began stalking around his opposite side. Keeping the axe up, he tried to keep it between himself and the two vampires, but as they split up, the best Clark could do was back up.  
  
“Well, lookie here,” Candy picked up Buffy’s crossbow.  
  
A moan focused all the attention in the room back on the felled librarian. He managed to gasp out, “Run Clark!” before falling unconscious.  
  
The western wannabe vampire grinned, “We’ll deal with him later. For now—Candy! are you done playin’ yet?”  
  
“Just a sec, Gorch, calm your horses,” she finished cocking the crossbow, “There.” She lifted it and laughed at Clark, “Better run, suga’”  
  
In Clark’s defense, she fired as she said it, so he really couldn’t have avoided it. The bolt flew through the air, tore through his shirt, and finally snapped in half as it impacted his skin. Didn’t stop it from knocking the wind out of him.  
  
“Ooof,” Clarks collapsed in a heap, desperate to catch his breath. He hadn’t felt out of breath in years.  
  
Thinking that the teen was out for the count, the two vampires turned to each other before Candy jumped into Gorch’s arms. The two kissed, relishing in their victory. When normal humans would be out of breath, they kept going and going. It wasn’t until the scent of blood filled their noses that they stopped. Someone was obviously bleeding.  
  
“You want the old man? Or the kid?” the male vampire offered graciously.  
  
Turning around, Candy said, “I’ll take the—” before she suddenly slumped, cutoff.  
  
Surprised, Gorch turned to see Candy unconscious on the floor, “Honey-bun? What’s wrong?” As he reached down, he felt a dull thwack to the back of his head before falling into darkness himself.  
  
Looking at the axe in his hands, Clark stared. He had used to axe haft, still uncomfortable with killing anything, even if they were vampires. He rushed over to check on Mr. Giles.  
  
“Mr. Giles!” Clark was able to get a response and after a few minutes, Giles returned to consciousness.  
  
“What happened?” the librarian asked, still in a daze. He fiddled with his glasses before sitting upright, “Good lord! The vampires!”  
  
Clark braced his chest and reassured him, “Don’t worry Mr. Giles. I… knocked them out.”  
  
Giles spluttered, “I-I-I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?”  
  
“They’re over there,” the teen pointed at the fallen vampires before offering the librarian a hand up.  
  
“Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?” Mr. Giles asked as he brushed himself off.  
  
Before Clark could answer the library doors banged open once again; this time to admit a thoroughly trashed Buffy and Cordelia. There was dirt, blood, grease, and even leaves covering their dresses and Clark was pretty sure both dresses belonged in the dump.  
  
“Good lord!” That was most definitely a catchphrase. “What happened?”  
  
Buffy waved an exhausted hand through the air, “It was this whole big thing. Long story.”  
  
Having checked both of them for serious injury, Clark allowed himself a smile at her flippant reply.  
  
Amusingly, Giles was now rubbing his glasses, “I would very much appreciate an explanation.”  
  
“Come to the carnival! See the clowns, feed the animals, and kill the Slayers!” Buffy exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air with each point, “Use grenades! Guns! You name it!”  
  
“Long story?” Clark queried, still not completely understanding.  
  
“We got hunted,” Cordelia deadpanned.  
  
Buffy allowed herself a smile. “Apparently not.”


	9. ??? / Robot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The effects of band candy followed by some serious discussion.

* * *

Clark was acting different.   
  
That’s really as far as Faith thought before they slammed into a nearby display, knocking over dozens of different power bars.  
  
It all started when Clark greeted her outside the sporting goods store. The bows and knives had just been so sexy, it wasn’t her fault that she stared.  
  
“Hey, Faith,” Clark sauntered up, which was the first sign. He never sauntered.  
  
Still, she was always game for some chaos, “How’s it going?”  
  
“Been feeling really good actually,” he shot her a grin, “But I realized I’d feel better making you scream.”  
  
“Huh?” Not that she was complaining, but Clark was never this open about getting freaky.  
  
Clark quickly turned and examined the sporting goods display, “Were you looking at the knife?”  
  
“Yeh,” Faith looked away as she guiltily admitted, “I considered taking it actually.”  
  
 _Crash!_  
  
The tinkle of shattering glass brought her attention back to Clark.  
  
He smirked as he dangled the knife with its sheath in front of her nose. “Here you go.”  
  
Completely flabbergasted, Faith looked at him mouth open, “Huh?” It wasn’t right; it felt like someone had reversed their usual roles.  
  
Before her brain could restart, Clark pulled her in for a passionate kiss. Because of their enhanced physiologies, it was several minutes before they had to break for breathe.  
  
“Damn,” Faith managed to rasp out.  
  
“Too bad I can’t say the same,” Clark shot back with a smirk. He made an exaggerated gesture with the knife before putting it in his back pocket, “You don’t get this until you make me say the pineapple.”  
  
“Pineapple?” Damnit, she was supposed to be the confusing one.  
  
His smirk was driving her insane, “Safe word.”  
  
Faith actually growled before launching herself at Clark. Yeah, he was acting weird. But she’d be damned if her first instinct wouldn’t be to fuck it out of him. They ploughed through a nearby shelf, scattering merchandise everywhere. It would not be the last to fall.  
  
Waking up the next morning, Clark felt something uncomfortable digging into his back. Turning slightly, he felt the whole world sway. Odd. Faith was pressed up against him, less odd.  
  
Looking up, all he could see was the ceiling. To the sides, he saw sloping curves of wood. Beneath him, more wood: a lot of it splintered and cracked. Turning gently, he noticed wires suspending him and Faith, far above the ground. His movement caused the hull to rock, waking Faith up.  
  
“Feeling better?” Faith asked, finally letting her worry from the previous night show.  
  
Clark, who was recalling everything from the previous evening in vivid detailed blushed, “I’m so sorry Faith, I don’t know what happened to me.”  
  
She playfully swatted at him, “I’m not the one who ended up saying pineapple.”  
  
“Still, I don’t remember…” Clark began as he recalled last night, “I wasn’t the only one acting all weird was I?”  
  
“Naw,” Faith replied, running her finger up and down his torso, “Seems like every adult was freaking out last night.” After shifting a little, she reached behind her and threw a broken paddle overboard.  
  
Hearing it crash on the floor below, her companion asked, “And you didn’t?”  
  
“Guess I’m no adult,” Faith answered with a shrug. Then a devilish light glimmered in her eyes, “Though I can’t say I didn’t get freaky last night.”  
  
At Clark’s blush she let out a hearty laugh before laying her head into the crook of his shoulder, rocking them slightly. “I missed you…” she whispered quietly. It was said as much as for Clark as for herself.  
  
“Oh?” Clark couldn’t resist teasing, “And it wasn’t me making you scream last night?”  
  
“I ain’t no saint,” Faith shot back with a frown, “Not gonna say no to a ride of a lifetime.”  
  
Her comment didn’t seem to sit well with Clark. “Were you even worried about me?”  
  
Faith sat up abruptly, “I kept an eye on you all night didn’t I!?!” she exclaimed, “Stopped you from doing other crazy shit like the rest of them were doing!?!”  
  
Realizing his mistake, Clark tried to placate her, “I’m sorry Faith, I didn’t realize—“  
  
“You’re damned right, you didn’t,” Faith interrupted him, “You have no idea how many times I wanted to run off and find out what the fuck was happening.” She turned to look him in the eye. “But I didn’t want you getting in any more trouble.”  
  
Clark looked over the gunnels to the chaotic remains of the store, “Any more trouble?”  
  
Faith gave him a small smile, accepting his apology. She looked over the starboard edge herself and shrugged her shoulders, “Like I said, I ain’t no saint.”  
  
“One more question Faith,” Clark examined their resting place, suspended from the ceiling, meters above the store floor.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Did we rock the boat last night or what?”   
  
Faith groaned.  
  
“Get it? Because of where we are?”  
  
She hit him.  
  
“Ow!” Clark complained, rubbing his shoulder.  
  
Faith glowered at him a little before snuggling in beside him. Her movements swaying them gently, was very reminiscent of water.  
  
“Heh… we had sex in a canoe...”   
  
She hit him again.  
  
 **Canoe**  
  
.  
  
 **Robot**  
  
"I still say he's a robot," that was Xander.  
  
It wasn't Clark's fault he was eavesdropping. Not really. He was in Giles' office discussing a strategy to reveal his personal secrets; despite Giles himself not knowing the details of Clark's origins, the librarian had been very comforting and reassuring. They figured a direct approach would be best.  
  
"Clark?" Mr. Giles asked. The teen was being distracted by the ongoing conversation just outside the doors after all.  
  
"Hmmm?" Clark, tried to refocus his attention back to Giles, "I'm just a bit distracted. That's all."  
  
"Stop being such a dweeb. He's not some Terminator," that was Cordelia, "Oh my god, you've turned me into one of you!"  
  
"Clark?"   
  
He was getting distracted again, "Sorry, Mr. Giles. I really just want to get this over with."  
  
"I understand," the librarian replied, "I must confess, I am also interested in finding out more about you."  
  
Clark smiled sheepishly, "Can I just have a minute for myself before we discuss everything with the group?"  
  
“Of course,” Giles nodded his head in acquiescence, "I'll be outside with the others."  
  
Instead of collecting his thoughts like he implied, Clark, with a modicum of guilt, continued to eavesdrop on conversation in the library.  
  
"My cousin, is not an evil robot sent back in time," Willow sounded cross.  
  
"I'm not saying he is," Xander defended, "Just saying, that if he was a robot, it would explain how distant he is with us."  
  
Faith chimed in, "I say he's flesh and bones," she took a pause, "Unless you're talking about his ass," she definitely knew he was eavesdropping, "that's pure steel."  
  
The others seemed flustered at her remark. Well, everyone except Oz.  
  
"Never noticed," the quiet teen commented.  
  
Giles stuttered his response. Clark assumed the librarian was cleaning his glasses, "N-n-n-nonetheless, Clark is choosing to entrust us with information about himself." The librarian's tone suddenly took on a much sterner demeanour, "I hope we will all accept him, even if we discover he isn't completely human." There was a pause, "to which I have some doubts." The last comment seemed pointed, probably at Xander.  
  
There was an immediate chorus of agreement from everyone present. Clark sighed in relief; although his impending revelation went against some of Pa's lessons, those lessons did not take into account Sunnydale and all its associated weirdness. If Clark wanted to develop a thorough understanding of his new home and how to protect Ma, he would have to compromise his secrets. Considering the potential dangers, it would be better sooner rather than later.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Clark opened the door and stepped into the library.  
  
Everyone immediately focused their attention on him.  
  
"Uh..." Clark gave them all an awkward wave, "Hi."  
  
There was a smattering of returned greetings, punctuated by the _Pop!_ of Buffy's bubble gum.  
  
"So... I just wanted to clarify," Clark began, before smirking slightly at Xander, "I am not a robot."  
  
There were varying degrees of shock and embarrassment within the group, with Faith being the only one amused. She was the only one aware of his super-hearing after all.  
  
"You see," he explained, "I have very powerful hearing," everyone was paying rapt attention now, "Sight and smell too."   
  
The library was silent, except for the occasional intake of breath.  
  
"I am also much stronger, faster, and much more durable than a normal human being," Clark continued.   
  
Faith muttered quietly, "You got that right." Only Clark and Buffy managed to hear it. Buffy sent her a questioning look, only to have Faith ignore it  
  
Clark decided to list the rest of his abilities, pretending he never heard Faith, "I can heat things with my eyes and create strong winds with my breath-"  
  
"Like when you knocked over Mr. Snyder!" Willow exclaimed excitedly, connecting some dots.  
  
Xander wiped a fake tear, "That was one of the happiest moments of my life."  
  
“That’s a sad life,” Cordelia snorted, "Why am I even dating you?"  
  
"Could we focus please?" Mr. Giles interrupted before Xander could make a retort. Returning his gaze to Clark, he got to the crux of the matter, "How is all this possible? Was it magic?"  
  
"You all know how I was adopted right?" the question was asked to the group, but all his attention was focused on Faith. She and everyone else nodded, or vocalized agreement.   
  
"Well, simply put I'm not from around here," Clark explained, without really explaining. "My parents found me in the middle of a field."  
  
"Are you from a neighbouring dimension?" the librarian asked curiously. Everyone else was waiting anxiously for his answer. Cordelia was pretending not to be, but the slight tilt of her head said otherwise.  
  
Clark took a deep breath, "I was found... in a spaceship."  
  
There was a brief pause. And then everyone clamoured in response.  
  
"Huh."  
  
"Extraordinary!"  
  
"Cool."  
  
"It's E.T.!"  
  
"Clarky's from space?!?"  
  
"Whatever."  
  
The only one Clark bothered paying attention to was Faith.   
  
She gave him a warm smile, "Wicked."  
  
He grinned back.  
  
Once the hubbub died down, Xander looked mildly disappointed, "So, not a robot?"  
  
Clark grinned, and shook his head, "Sorry Xander. Though I am very, very durable."  
  
"How durable?" Buffy asked. Clark noticed that she seemed unusually critical and aware.  
  
"I can take a crossbow bolt to the chest?" Clark offered up meekly.  
  
Everyone froze, unsure how to respond. A light went off in Giles' head, "Good lord, the vampires?"  
  
Clark nodded, but modestly added, "Knocked the wind out of me though."  
  
Faith jumped off her table and proceeded to check Clark's chest for injury. Before he could react, she ripped open his flannel shirt, causing him to squawk in protest. He tried to cover himself up, but not before people got a decent look at his torso.  
  
From where she was sitting, Buffy commented, "No bruising. No scar. Doesn’t even have a scratch to show for it." She had been surprisingly clinical with her observations, “And hello, salty goodness,” Or not.  
  
Clark found himself blushing as Faith tried to keep her face straight; they wanted to keep whatever it was between them a secret for at least a little longer.  
  
Xander was struggling between awe and jealousy, "I told you he was a man of steel!" In his excitement, he jumped up for emphasis, only to trip and comically fall over. Everyone stared at his splayed body before laughing at his misfortune.  
  
Except for Faith. Instead, she not so gently squeezed Clark's left butt cheek. "Definitely Man of Steel."


	10. Grit / Hamburger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more serious discussions.

* * *

**Grit**  
  
Clark knew it wasn’t going to good when even Xander turned somber for what Mr. Giles was about to say.   
  
Standing in front of their little group, the librarian coughed gently into his fist. Focusing his attention on Clark, he began his narration.  
  
“This world is older than any of you know—”  
  
Buffy interrupted him amusedly, “Actually most of us know. It’s just Clark.”  
  
“Well y-y-yes, but,” knocked off his stride, Mr. Giles stuttered. Taking a small breath, he glared at Buffy, “As I was saying… Contrary to popular mythology, it did not begin as a paradise—”  
  
“Did anyone actually believe the world started as paradise?” Coredelia asked incredulously.  
  
The room was filled with a chorus of no’s and Mr. Giles stuttering once more. The atmosphere should have lightened, but for Clark, he just had a feeling that things were not going to work out. His comfort level was about that of sand in his pants. Uncomfortable and edging into the realm of painful.  
  
With a cough into his hand, and several seconds of glaring over the rims of his glasses, Mr. Giles reestablished order, “I think I shall skip the rest of my prepared material and get to the meat of the matter. The Slayer.”  
  
That word rung far too many bells in Clark’s head, “Is that what Buffy and Faith are?”  
  
Faith shot him a worried glance; she might have heard something in is tone.   
  
Buffy on the other hand, just answered with simple, “Yup.”  
  
Looking at the others, no one really met his Clark’s eyes, except for Mr. Giles.  
  
The librarian answered quietly, “Yes they are.” The seriousness in which those words had been said Clark left an ache in his chest. His subconscious knew what was coming, even if he didn’t.  
  
“For as long as there have been vampires, there’s been the Slayer. One girl in all the world, a Chosen One,” Mr. Giles continued. There was a problem with what he said.  
  
“But there’s two,” Clark stated, not sure what to think. “There’s Buffy and Faith.”  
  
Again no one would meet his eyes, even Giles, except for Buffy and Faith. Faith shot him an apologetic look while Buffy wore a tired expression.  
  
“I died, sophomore year,” the blonde explained. At Clark’s confused expression, she added, “I got better.”  
  
The ache in his chest grew. Clark wouldn't have been surprised if his proverbial bleeding heart, was actually now physical. “What happened?” he demanded, his voice calm and controlled. Something about it was probably hostile, because everyone else seemed to tense.  
  
“Xander,” Buffy replied as she shot her friend a small smile.  
  
He tried to lighten the mood, “You know CPR lessons? You should pay attention.”  
  
For some reason, Clark wasn’t finding it funny.  
  
“How is a Slayer chosen?” he asked, trying to understand.   
  
“A Slayer is called when the previous one passes,” Mr. Giles explained, returning his gaze. The librarian’s gaze was full of worry, comfort, and worst of all understanding.  
  
Clark’s emotions almost took control, but he managed to grit his teeth and crushed them down. Quietly he asked, “Slayer’s don’t live long do they? Faith was chosen after Buffy?”  
  
The librarian answered softly, no longer wavering in his gaze, “Buffy has already lasted longer than most,” Clark’s heart felt as though it were being ground into the floor, “And there was a Slayer before Faith… her name was Kendra.”  
  
“I was called at the start of the summer,” Faith explained, her face unreadable.   
  
Clark’s heart beat once, twice, and then it stopped before he felt it explode. Caught up in his upwell of emotions, he smashed his hands down on a nearby table, accidentally shattering it. Splinters rained down around him, but he didn’t care. Faith and Buffy, were doomed to die horrible and tragic deaths, because why? _Because they were chosen._  
  
Someone gently touched his shoulder and he spun, his eyes glowing red in his fury. It was Faith and she looked angry, which didn’t make any sense.  
  
“Calm the fuck down,” she demanded angrily, though the hand on his shoulder conveyed anything but.   
  
Looking at the others, Clark was surprised that no one was scared or entirely shocked at his reaction. They knew the score and why they were there. No one else had been chosen, none of the Scoobies. But they stayed. They stayed knowing that any night, something might happen to their loved one, but not on their watch.  
  
It just wasn’t right. Quashing his anger was not easy feat, but he could not afford to distract them with his emotions. They had much more important things to worry about than his feelings.  
  
Clenching his teeth together, Clark offered a forced smile, “Don’t worry about me, I just need a little bit to process this. I’ll see you all around.”  
  
Without looking back, Clark grit his teeth and ran.  
  
  
.  
  
 **Hamburger**  
  
“What the fuck was that about?” Faith demanded, having found Clark about an hour later. He was sitting in a random alleyway filled with demolished dumpsters and crates.  
  
Clark ignored her and continued to stare up at the sky.  
  
“Clark!” Faith tried to get his attention, his attitude was starting to… worry her.  
  
“Faith, just leave me alone,” he didn’t even bother to look her in eyes.  
  
“Fuck that,” she took a seat beside him, “I’m staying.”  
  
Clearly annoyed, Clark gave her a look. She dared him to say something, but to her dismay he looked away and began to get up.  
  
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Faith demanded, scrambling up behind him.  
  
He ignored her and started walking out of the alley when she snapped. Grabbing him by the back of his neck, she flung him into the back of the alley, cracking the mortar in the process. Surprised, Clark took a moment to stand up before he managed to school his face back into a calm façade. He walked forward, trying to exit the alley.  
  
Faith was having none of that. She stood at the mouth of the alleyway, arms crossed, “You ain’t going anywhere till we sort your shit out.”  
  
Clark walked up to her, “Move.”  
  
Looking upwards, Faith would never admit it, but she was intimidated. She would never let him see that, not now, “Fuck that.”  
  
“You know I could move you,” his facial expression never changed.  
  
Pushing him back with both hands, Faith managed to make him stumble, “You don’t get to throw some hissy fit, because my lot in life sucks.” She shoved him again and he still wasn’t responding, “You don’t get to freak out, because you hear about B’s past,” With a final desperate shove, she got him to the back of the alley once more, “You don’t get to walk out on me because you’re scared.”  
  
For a moment Clark let his anguish show, “Faith, I…”  
  
She turned, she was crying again. This was fucked up, she promised that no guy would make her cry again.  
  
“I’m not scared Faith,” that got her attention, “I’m angry.”   
  
Clark had always been a calm more reserved person, but this side of him was totally new to Faith.  
  
“It’s just not right Faith,” Clark ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “You shouldn’t have to give your life. Neither should Buffy, against the nameless forces of darkness,” clasping his hands as fists, he punched the nearby wall, “It shouldn’t be up to one adult and a bunch of teenagers to keep everyone safe.”  
  
“We don’t have a choice,” Faith croaked quietly, not really trusting her voice.  
  
“But why doesn’t anyone else help?” Clark demanded, “What about these Watchers? Where are they besides Giles? There’s a whole group of them right?”  
  
The brunnete slayer shrugged, “No idea. But do you know what the Hellmouth has? Two slayers. And the Scoobies—“  
  
“And me,” Clarks cut-in, his face was determined.  
  
“This doesn’t have to be your problem,” Faith offered half-heartedly. People from her past would have left, but she knew he wouldn’t.  
  
“If something isn’t working properly,” Clark began, before clenching his fist in determination, “Pa taught me to fix things as best I can.”  
  
Faith gave him a small smile, “I don’t think fixing the tractor is the same thing, Clark.”  
  
Clark shook his head; at least he wasn’t angry any more. Just decided, “This is something I need to do.”  
  
His gaze was so intense, Faith turned and looked away, “Come on, I’m hungry. You’re buying.”  
  
It was nice to hear him laugh after that, “Of course I am.”  
  
As her stomach growled, she made a small jerk with her shoulder, “Come on, Doublemeat Palace is just around the corner. Love their burgers.”  
  
“You know, their burgers aren’t really made of meat,” Clark commented, keeping his voice light.  
  
Turning around, Faith dropped her jaw, “You’re fucking kidding.”  
  
Clark tapped the side of his nose, “Enhanced smell? Helps with taste too. Their patties aren’t really made of meat.”  
  
“Well fuck,” Faith pouted dejected, “That’s the shittiest thing I’ve heard all week.”  
  
“Well, I can show you how to make a hamburger from scratch,” Clark offered.  
  
The slayer backed up waving her hands in the air, “I don’t cook.”  
  
“Don’t worry, I’ll be the one on the grill,” Clark grinned, before he sombered up, “Sorry about earlier.”  
  
“Everyone deals with their shit differently,” Faith shrugged, “No big.”  
  
“Speaking of big, how do you like your burgers?” Clark asked as they began to leave the alley.  
  
“Like my buns,” she reached around and grabbed Clark’s right butt cheek.  
  
“Uh, Faith?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“That didn’t really make any sense.”  
  
“Fuck you.”


	11. Hairy / ???

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clothing can be optional at times.

* * *

**Hairy**  
  
“So what do you think of your new watcher?” Clark asked tentatively after their first meeting with Gwendolyn Post. They were walking outside before one of Faith’s patrols.  
  
“She’s got something up her ass,” Faith shrugged, “But she’s my watcher.”  
  
Clark gave her an examining look. Faith was clearly excited to finally have a watcher of her own again, but she wasn’t going to let it show. He knew it bothered her that Giles, despite his best efforts, would always put Buffy first and so would the rest of their little group. She was feeling a bit like an outsider, but Clark was determined to fix that.  
  
“So she’s a little stiff?” Clark asked trying to keep his voice light. Honestly, the new watcher rubbed him the wrong way. Her opinions and words, though perhaps beneficial for Faith in the short term, promised to be divisive and potentially detrimental to their group dynamics. Faith was isolated enough as it was, she didn’t need further severing of her human ties. There’d be nothing left.  
  
“Yeah, but—“ Faith must’ve caught something in his tone because she stopped, “What is it Clark?”  
  
Trying to hide it, Clark replied in mock curiosity, “What is what?”  
  
“Don’t make me punch you,” Faith growled, before raising her fist, only half-jokingly, “You’ve been so good, haven’t needed to punish you in a while.”  
  
Clark let himself relax and laughed at her joke. He waited for Faith to give him an OK smile before continuing. Taking a deep breath, he voiced his concerns, “So… what do you think of how she treated the others?”  
  
Faith replied quickly, “Look, I know she’s a bit of a hardass, but Slaying is serious business,” she noticed Clark’s expression, “But you still don’t like her.”  
  
“It’s not that I don’t like her per say…” he began, awkwardly running his hand through his hair.  
  
“Cut the bull, Clark. What is it?” Faith interrupted him before he could ramble or make up an excuse.  
  
“You feel like an outsider to the group,” Clark stated flatly.  
  
Incredulously, the Slayer replied, “What’d you say?”  
  
“I sort of know why, and I think you’re wrong, but at some level you don’t think you belong to the group,” Clark explained, watching her closely for her reaction. She was most likely going to explode or bolt.  
  
It looked like she was trying to both when she violently deflated and looked away, “Red doesn’t like me.”  
  
“Sorry, what?” Clark asked surprised. Willow was one of the most accepting of their group of his alien status.  
  
“She’s worried I’m going to make paws with her boy,” Faith explained turning back to look at him. Her face was unusually expressionless.  
  
“Maybe I get that,” Clark allowed, but he wasn’t letting it rest, “But what about the others? Buffy loves slaying with you.”  
  
She gave a snort, “Whoopie, sister slayer. Then she goes back to her nice little home, with her nice mom, and lives her nice little life with all her nice little friends.”  
  
“Faith, they’re trying,” Clark reasoned, getting her expression to soften, just a little.  
  
“I know they are,” she conceded, but she continued, “But they will always be Buffy’s crew first.”  
  
Clark replied softly, “I didn’t realize we were picking sides.”  
  
“Look, I just like having something, that’s just mine, ok?” Faith shot back, her temper flaring, “Is that so much to fuckin’ ask for?”  
  
“No, it’s not,” Clark shook his head, “But when it comes to something as big and as serious as Slaying. We need to work as a team. Together.”  
  
“Slayer’s have always worked alone,” Faith shot back. The heat of her voice was dwindling.  
  
At this Clark turn his head skywards, “They’ve also died terrible deaths,” he refocused his attention on Faith who was about to counter, “I’ve done some reading Faith.”   
  
She quieted; he took it as a sign to continue.  
  
“When I offered to help, Giles let me go through his material and Buffy is already, one of the longer living Slayers in recorded Council history,” Clark began and again he anticipated Faith’s cut-in, “I’m not saying how great Buffy is, not that she isn’t an accomplished Slayer, but I think it’s due to her support system.” Faith’s jaw snapped shut at that. “Never in the history of the Council, has a Slayer received so much support from her peers. Never has another slayer been allowed to live a life and enjoy the light.”   
  
Clark made sure to meet her eyes, “The Slayer is meant to kill things of darkness. What stops a Slayer from succumbing to it?” he carefully took her hand in his, “I think it’s will. And I don’t know anything greater than the will to protect.”  
  
Pulling her hand back, Faith turned her face downwards. At least she hadn’t turned away.  
  
“When did you get so philosophical and shit?” she asked softly, any venom in her voice gone.  
  
He didn’t bother to answer her question, instead he gently lifted her chin, “Faith, I have your back and, if you let them,” Clark gave her a crooked smile, “the others will have it too. Just give it some more time.”  
  
Smiling in return, Faith’s eyes suddenly began to smolder, “One thing first.”  
  
“Yeah?” Clark instinctively gulped.  
  
“I’m willing to give this team work shit a try,” she began normally, before dropping her voice to a throaty rasp, “But you’re mine.”  
  
They held each other’s gaze until Clark finally smiled softly, “You already knew that.”  
  
With a rapid turn, Faith began walking again as though their whole conversation had never happened. In a small hurry, Clark managed to catch up as the two enjoyed a companionable silence for a while.  
  
“I’ll try to talk to her about working with the others,” Faith commented suddenly as though about the weather.  
  
Clark nodded, “Good…” there was still something…  
  
Faith must’ve heard it in his tone again, “What?” she’d stopped walking and had firmly planted her hands on her hips.  
  
“Just…” Clark wasn’t sure how to bring this up, “The thing is, the Council hasn’t had the most positive track record when dealing with non-humans…”  
  
The brunette slayer outright laughed, “Don’t worry boytoy. I don’t know her nearly enough to be spilling my secrets, never mind yours.”  
  
He gave her a small smile, it wasn’t as big a deal to her.  
  
“The way I figure it, Oz has more to worry about.”  
  
That comment gave Clark pause, “Why’s that?”  
  
“His hairy problem, ya know?” Faith was looking at him confused.  
  
“His hairy problem?” Clark asked, just as confused.  
  
“Oh, shit,” Faith’s face took on a look of dawning comprehension, “Remember that thing, you didn’t want to ask about, in the cage?”  
  
His memory was excellent after all, “Oh.”  
  
“That was Oz dealing with his hairy problem.”  
  
“I’d call that furry.”  
  
“You’re fucking lucky I need sex more than you do.”  
  
  
.  
  
  
Clark came from fucking nowhere.  
  
One moment, Angel the apparently not evil vampire, shoved Willow out of the way, about to get zapped by lightning in the process. Next thing that happens, Clark pushed _him_ out of the way of the giant bolt of lightning, leaving himself dead center. Horrified, she couldn’t turn away.  
  
It was horrible to watch. Every muscle of his body spasmed randomly, his anguished cries filled the air, and smoke billowed around him. It was all over in a second. He collapsed onto the floor, a darkened husk completely smothered in dark smoke.  
  
“Clark!” Faith tried to dash out from behind her pillar, but Buffy pulled her back.  
  
“Let me go!” the brunette struggled, but the blonde refused to let her.  
  
“And let the evil lady barbeque you too?” Buffy demanded, trying to get Faith to think rationally, “We need a plan.”  
  
“I’m. Going. To. Kill. Her.” Faith growled out, before snapping a shot to Buffy’s face. Managing to stun the other slayer, Faith made a dash around the pillar: only to stop.  
  
Gwendolyn Post reveling in her dark magics smirked down at Faith, “Die.”  
  
Frozen, she had time for one last thought. _I’m sorry Clark._  
  
And then nothing.   
  
Confused, Faith watched as her former watcher’s confused eyes glazed over before she collapsed into a heap on the floor. Standing behind her, completely alive, was Clark.  
  
Without even thinking, Faith threw herself at him, knocking him to the floor and pinned him there, “Don’t you fucking dare do that again. You hear me?!?” she shouted, her voice fueled by a mixture of rage, guilt, fear, and relief.  
  
There was a polite cough. Fucking Giles.  
  
“What?” Faith glared at him.   
  
“Perhaps this can wait until Clark has some clothes?” Giles offered delicately.  
  
Someone sniggered in the background, probably Xander. Still angry, Faith didn’t see the point, when she felt a familiar poking sensation near her inner thigh. Looking down, Clark was beet red.  
  
“Faith, I’m kinda… naked,” he explained. Apparently he hadn’t realized his clothes had been burned off too until that moment. Also, it seemed that even though the others were watching, l’il buddy was still getting excited.  
  
“Relax, nothing I haven’t seen or felt before,” she laughed off with a smirk.  
  
Someone bit back a choked cough. The rest were probably just as surprised.  
  
“Could someone, _please_ get me a towel or something?” Clark begged, and looked down at his crotch, “ _Before_ Faith gets off me?”  
  
Everyone turned to look at Angel: it was his mansion after all.  
  
“Uh right… I’ll go get something.”  
  
 **Towel**


	12. Airport / Gradient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suspicions are voiced and science leads to some good times.

* * *

**Airport**  
  
“Hey guys,” Clark walked into the library greeting everyone present.  
  
“Hello Clark,” responded Giles with a small smile. Willow and Buffy were giving him odd looks as Xander remained uncharacteristically silent.  
  
Trying to ignore the awkward tension in the room, Clark cleared his throat, “So, I was doing some research—“  
  
“So you and Faith?” Buffy asked bluntly. He wasn’t at all surprised to see the blonde completely unrepentant.   
  
“Err… yeah,” Clark murmured. He wasn’t comfortable discussing his love life that publicly.  
  
“Good,” the Slayer gave him a quick nod, “You’d be good for her.”  
  
Smiling at her endorsement, Clark looked at the others. Giles was uncomfortable and obviously trying to stay out of it, though the quirk of his head said he wasn’t completely resisting his curiosity. Xander looked like he was deep in thought, still completely out of character. And not as surprisingly, it was Willow who was openly displaying disapproval.  
  
“So, where is Faith?” his cousin asked, obviously trying to be civil on his behalf.  
  
Clark eyes dropped for a moment, downcast at her question, but he quickly raised them again, “She just needs a little time. She feels like she really messed up with the whole evil watcher issue.”  
  
“Hey,” Xander offered, “It’s not like we saw through it any better.”  
  
Clark gave him a small grin, “I know that, and I’ve made sure Faith knows that, but it doesn’t just make things alright in her mind. She’s really being hard on herself.”  
  
“Will she be alright?” Giles asked, clearly concerned.  
  
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure she just needs some time away from it all,” Clark explained.  
  
“So she’s just going to drop all the slaying on Buffy’s lap?” Willow demanded hotly.  
  
“Willow,” the librarian intoned warningly.   
  
Buffy just shrugged her shoulders, “No big.”  
  
Trying to control himself, Clark responded to Willow, “She just needs some time to get her head back on right.” He shot his cousin a glare, “Being distracted is just asking for something bad to happen. If we really need her, I’m sure she’d be willing to join these meetings again.”  
  
Giles coughed into his hand, “Quite right. I’m to believe if she’s needed you can get in contact with her?” his question just needed a small confirmation.  
  
“Yeah.”   
  
Willow was still frowning though, “I still don’t see why she’s just leaving all the Slaying for Buffy to do on her own.”  
  
“Buffy’s not on her own,” Clark was trying his best to keep his tone mild, “She’s got you guys for support if she needs it.”  
  
“Damn right,” Xander replied with a grin.  
  
The redhead still wasn’t satisfied, “Faith has us too!”  
  
Giles may have seen the direction the conversation was headed and was about to talk, but Clark had to speak up. He shot a meaningful glare at his cousin, “Does she?”  
  
“We’ve got her back,” Buffy replied, wearing a frown.  
  
“Yeah, what Buffy said!” Xander exclaimed, visibly affronted.  
  
Giles however, was sharing a meaningful look with Clark. The librarian understood, but unfortunately, his duty was to, first and foremost, Buffy. Looking at Willow, Clark was pleasantly surprised to see her actually considering his question and sifting through some of her memories.  
  
“But is she a Scoobie?” Clark asked softly.  
  
Xander shot back, “Of course she is!”  
  
“Then why was she left out of a meeting when Ms. Post was here?” Clark demanded, finally allowing some of his emotions to show, “Ms. Post used that fact to drive Faith away from you. Why do you think Faith was so willing to believe her instead of Buffy?”  
  
There was a long and awkward silence as Clark tried to regain his composure after his small tirade.  
  
He blew out a breath, “I’m not saying you’re not trying to include her. Thing is, all of you are close, very close and it shows.” He tried to make sure his message was hitting home, “She’s new here and an outsider. It’s hard to fit into a group that’s already so close,” giving them all sardonic grin, he continued, “I would know.”  
  
Frowning in thought, Buffy looked like she wanted to say something but Giles beat her to it.  
  
“Thank you for that Clark,” the librarian said, he looked over his glasses at the other teens, “This is an issue that we’ve all over looked, myself included, and it is one we should try to rectify moving forward.”  
  
“She has you though right?” Willow asked quietly, her demeanour completely different. Sad even.  
  
Clark gave a sharp nod, “Yeah.”  
  
“Good,” his cousin replied, echoing Buffy’s thoughts from earlier.  
  
The silence stretched for several seconds before Xander commented, “Awkward…”  
  
Clark shared an amused grin with Buffy as Giles began wiping his glasses.  
  
The librarian hid a grin, having noticed their exchanged and instead of acknowledging it, directed a question at Clark, “You said you had something to share with us?”  
  
Suddenly, Clark turned grim once more, “There’s something really wrong with Sunnydale.”  
  
“Well there is the Hellmouth,” Xander pointed out helpfully.  
  
Clark shook his head, “It’s not that. I’ve been to the town library and the archives looking at different census information… The numbers just don’t make sense. And neither does Sunnydale’s infrastructure.”  
  
“What seems to be the problem?” Giles asked, leaning forward with controlled interest.  
  
“Well, for example, why does a Sunnydale have so many cemeteries?” Clark asked, somewhat rhetorically.  
  
“Vampires need homes?” Buffy suggested. She was surprisingly close to the mark.  
  
Acknowledging her point with a nod, Clark continued, “And, financially it doesn’t make sense, but Sunnydale has a very _very_ developed waste processing system.” At the others’ blank looks he explained, “The sewers. Sunnydale’s population doesn’t warrant the extensive network of sewer ways beneath it. But they’re so well built that they’re practically underground roads for vampires.”  
  
Giles was beginning to see how the pieces all fit into the puzzle and it was more than a little alarming, “Are you suggesting that?...”  
  
“There’s something definitely going,” Clark agreed, “I haven’t gotten much yet, but I’d like your help.”  
  
The trio amusedly watched Giles scrub his glasses furiously.   
  
“What’s the sitch Watcher-mine?” Buffy asked after a few seconds, impatience getting the better of her.  
  
“If what Clark says is true, we have reason to suspect some of the local government, if not higher up, is aware and actually supporting some of Sunnydale’s darker residents,” the librarian explained, clearly worried.  
  
“That would bad,” Xander lamented with a groan, “And here we just thought Sunnydale PD was dumb.”  
  
“Not of the good,” Buffy agreed, though if she was upset by the news, she didn’t show it.  
  
“What tipped you off?” Willow asked quietly, her voice slightly tinged with jealousy. Clark was quickly learning that his cousin was a bit insecure in comparison to others.  
  
“We’re really close to LAX… “ trying to downplay discovery, he gave a lopsided grin, “So why do we have our own airport?”  
  
.  
  
  
 **Gradient**  
  
“So, the pH gradient helps separate out the different substrates…” Clark mumbled to himself as he studied his chemistry homework. He was again in Faith’s motel room, just keeping her company. She’d been mildly despondent ever since the Gwendolyn Post incident and he was determined to keep her company, even if she refused to talk about it.  
  
“You know,” a throaty voice rasped in his ear, “When you talk all science-like, you sound real sexy.”  
  
Startled, Clark jumped slightly as he felt her breath tickle his ear. Turning slightly, he saw Faith on all fours behind him. Despite his best intentions, he couldn’t stop his eyes from travelling downwards to her revealing tank-top.   
  
Placing a hand on his shoulder, Faith gently lowered him onto his back. “We haven’t done anything in a while,” she began, tracing a finger up his cheek, leaving a tingling trail down Clark’s cheek.  
  
“And you’re getting me,” upside down, she leaned forwards, inches from his face.   
  
“All,” he could feel her breath on his nose.  
  
“Worked,” her breath warmed his lips.  
  
“Up,” ever so gently, he felt her lips touch his.   
  
He was about to return the kiss when Faith suddenly pulled back up with a smirk. With a groan, Clark sat up and turned around. Faith was wearing that big shit-eating grin of hers, looking quite satisfied; she had to have known the effect she’d just had on l’il buddy. With another groan, Clark realized she’d gotten him referring it by the same damned nickname.  
  
“Feeling better?” Clark asked, raising an eyebrow. He shifted his leg as though it would disguise his arousal.  
  
More serious, Faith looked away, but mustered the courage to look back before she began talking, “Shit happens, we just gotta deal with. Move on.”  
  
Clark frowned, he had been hoping for more when she finally opened up, “Is that all?”  
  
The Slayer gave him a shoulder shrug, “I said we didn’t I?”  
  
Realizing the importance of this moment, he gave her a soft smile, “Yes, you did.” Although she’d tried to brush off the importance of her pronoun use, Clark knew better. This was an important milestone for her.  
  
“Damn straight,” she replied, the grin was back.  
  
Feeling a bit mischievous at this point, Clark asked, “So what do you have against chromotograp—“  
  
He was interrupted by Faith slamming her lips into his and tackling him to the ground. After a several breathtaking minutes, Faith sat up, still straddling him.  
  
Looking down at him, she asked, “How much do you like this shirt?”  
  
Slightly confused, he responded, “It’s a shirt?” _Where did that come—OH SHIT!_  
  
Before Clark could stop her, Faith ripped his shirt open, sending buttons flying everywhere. She went to work trailing her tongue along the ridge of his neck, occasionally taking a nip at the skin.  
  
“Let’s see just how tough you are,” she breathed huskily before clamping down on his neck. As she sucked in, Clark felt a slight twinge, possibly pain, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure. Apparently knowing he was highly durable gave Faith no reason to hold back. As she gave him a sharp nip of her teeth, he arched his back, grinding his groin into hers.   
  
Sitting up, Clark ran his fingers through her hair, feeling its texture and taking in her aroma. Resisting the urge to rush things, he nibbled gently on her earlobe. He felt her press up against him in response; the heat of her body radiating through her clothes. Her top was going to be an issue.  
  
Moving onto her neck, Clark lay down a line of kisses as his hands fumbled with the hem of her shirt. Eventually rolling it past her bust, Clark was glad to notice he wasn’t the only one erect. In a practiced smooth motion, he pulled the top over her head and gently pressed forward, lowering them to the ground.  
  
She squeezed her legs around him, trapping them together. She made sure to grind against him for good measure; unable to fight back his groan, Clark felt, rather than saw Faith smile. She liked to remind him every so often, who was on top: even if he was.  
  
With a growl, Clark smashed his lips onto hers once more, no longer feeling the need to hold back any longer. If he was right, he couldn’t serious hurt a slayer, not with his lips anyways.  
  
She responded viscerally to his new aggressiveness. She bit his lips, the sharp pain triggering a cascading wave a pleasure. She scratched his back, the trails burning hot on his skin, fueling his passion. And she ground against his crotch, the motion brought him to new levels of ecstasy.  
  
Pulling up to catch his breath, Clark decided to try something new. After all, she said it got her worked up, “Chromoto—“   
  
Before he could finish, Faith once again slammed her lips into his.  
  
At his next breath he started, “Gradien—“  
  
Again she silenced his mouth with hers.  
  
Taking a third breath, he was about to say something when she put a finger to his lips.  
  
“I just wanted you to shut up,” she croaked, her voice cracking, “I don’t give shit ‘bout chemistry.”  
  
With an internal shrug, Clark went back to exploring Faith’s mouth and body.  
  
He had a feeling he'd much prefer physical chemistry in the future.


	13. Wing / Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Improvisation and alternate realities.

* * *

**Wing**  
  
“Hey Faith,” Clark greeted as he walked into her place. She tried to ignore the look he gave her place as he entered. They’d had minor disagreements about her living arrangements, but Faith refused to live off anyone’s charity.  
  
“What’s up big boy?” Faith asked, she noticed that his voice was kind of glum.  
  
“Well…” Clark didn’t seem like he really wanted to share, “Cordelia’s in the hospital.”  
  
“Shit really?” she asked. Though she didn’t have much love for the brunette, it still sucked, “What happened?”  
  
“Part of a stairwell collapsed,” Clark explained somberly, meeting Faith’s eyes, “She saw Willow and Xander making out.”  
  
She was somewhat confused, “But ain’t Red and wolfboy?” Clark gave her a nod. “Shit, and same with Xander and the princess?” Clark gave her a second nod.  
  
Looking away, Faith tried to admire the view outside her window, “So, the group is all messed up right now?” It was amazing how interesting a crack in the parking lot pavement could be if you didn’t want to meet someone’s eyes.  
  
“Yeah,” Clark replied. He was probably running his hand through his hair like he did when he got all worked up. The slayer wouldn’t admit it, but at times it was adorable. _Urk._ She’d been spending too much time with B if she was even thinking the word adorable.  
  
“I don’t know how fix this,” he sounded so lost; Faith couldn’t not turn to face him.  
  
There he was shaking his hands and hanging his head like somebody just told him his dog died. This was why getting involved with someone was a bad idea; getting close to someone meant getting hurt. And the worst part about it all was that she hurt because Clark’s bleeding heart was too big. Now his pain was becoming hers.  
  
Not knowing what to do, Faith hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder. Much to her relief and horror, the tension in his body vanished before he pulled her tight into a bone crushing hug. He grasped desperately at her, pulling her close. This wasn’t about getting their jollies off and it was terrifying how much Clark just wanted to hold her.  
  
Frozen, Faith stood there as Clark kissed the top of her head repeatedly. Awkward at first, Faith didn’t know what to do with her hands. Compared to her, Clark was gigantic and she only knew how to use her hands for two things, fighting or sex. But as Clark continued to gain comfort from her presence, she relaxed, finally allowing her own emotions to take control.  
  
Without conscious effort, Faith pulled him in tighter and traced gentle circles on his back with her right hand. The embrace lost his awkwardness and the two lost themselves in the moment. It only ended when the setting sun shone directly into Clark’s eyes causing him to wince and pull away.  
  
Shooting her a small smile, Clark sat down on the floor, his expression less sad.  
  
Swallowing to clear her throat, Faith didn’t trust her voice not to crack, “Better?” she asked.  
  
Clark leaned back to meet her gaze, “Yeah, I’m doing better.” He still wasn’t happy though, that much was obvious.  
  
Taking a cautious seat beside him, Faith looked out window at the reddening sky. Again the companionable silence returned and neither wanted to end it. The two stayed relatively still even when the room became completely shrouded in darkness.  
  
“I don’t want to lose you,” Clark stated suddenly, still looking out at the sky.  
  
Surprised at his sudden statement, Faith turned to him, “What the fuck are you talking about?”  
  
Clark turned to face her, taking her all in, “It’s just… you’d tell me if you weren’t happy with me, right?”  
  
“Again, with the what fuck are you sayin’?” Faith demanded, getting slightly riled up.  
  
Looking back at the sky, Clark’s cool demeanour was completely unfazed by the heat in her words, “It’s just that, Willow seemed so happy with Oz. And Xander seemed really happy with Cordelia. But if the two of them were doing stuff behind everyone’s backs… Something couldn’t have been right.” He sounded so sure about that too.  
  
“Clark,” her calmer tone got his attention, “People ain’t perfect, specially Red,” she got an amused, yet disapproving look from Clark. Continuing on completely unrepentant, Faith explained, “People screw up. They make mistakes. Red and Xan-man are close, and if they got frisky together, doesn’t mean shit about the others.”  
  
“But why would you do that someone?” Clark asked. He was hearing what she said, but he wasn’t really listening, “If you aren’t happy with someone, why wouldn’t you just end it?”  
  
“Who’s to say that they weren’t happy?” Faith asked quietly, “They may have been happy with both options. Not saying they did right, but like I said Clark, mistakes happen.”  
  
Clark stubbornly shook his head, “I’d never do that to you.”  
  
Softening even more, Faith replied, “I know that Clark, but you gotta understand that sometimes people get caught up in the moment. People ain’t perfect.” She saw that he was finally understanding her words and decided to get to the underlying issue. Faith couldn’t believe the words about to leave her mouth, but they were important for him, “You gotta forgive them Clark and move forward.” His stupid bleeding heart.  
  
He gave her a small acknowledging nod and they sat quietly for a moment, admiring what few stars they could make out.  
  
“What about us?” Clark asked quietly, his gaze slowly turning to meet hers, “You’d tell me if you wanted something else right?” it almost made her cry when sincerely added, “I just want you to be happy.”  
  
At that moment, Faith had to kiss him. Grabbing his face with her hands, she pulled him in for the most passionate, yet most tender kiss of her life.   
  
When it ended, she offered him a small smile, “We wing it.”  
  
.  
  
  
 **Reality**  
  
 _Let us take one of the universes in which both the events which lead to Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the arrival of Kal-El on earth occur. Let us designate this earth, Earth-1337.  
  
When the wish is made that Buffy never arrives in Sunnydale, an alternate reality split off in which the Sunnydale goes to hell-in-a-hand-basket during what would have been the end of her sophomore year. This alternate reality will be referred to as alternate-Earth-1337. In the chaos, many residents are turned or killed, including one Sheila Rosenberg. Which means that Martha never got in touch with her sister and Clark never moved to Sunnydale.  
  
Suppose in this alternate timeline, Rupert Giles is unable to end the wish. This would be alternate-alternate-Earth-1337. Instead he died in vain.  
  
Years later, after the death of his mother, during his explorations of the world, Clark Kent was drawn to Sunnydale by its dark reputation. This is Clark’s story on alternate-alternate-Earth-1337…_  
  
Walking around town, Clark was more than surprised at how deserted it was. There were signs of vandalism and mayhem all around, but none of Sunnydale’s residents to be seen. If he didn’t know better, he’d just stepped into his very own zombie apocalypse film. If that were so, hopefully he made it until the end.  
  
His first priority would be to find a place to settle down. The cash he’d made working at the diner would be enough to keep him going for about a week before he needed some new employment. Finding a motel with the vacancy sign flashing, Clark made his way to the check-in office.  
  
All the windows had been curiously blocked off or covered with heavy drapes. Despite the fact the sun was still low in the sky, Clark would have had troubling the time of day inside.  
  
“Hello?” Clark rang the bell at the counter, hoping to get some service.  
  
“Why hello there!” greeted a man stepping out his office, his grin was infectious, “How’s it going?”  
  
“Pretty well, thank you,” Clark replied, happy to finally see someone in the town, “If I may ask, where is everyone?”  
  
“Everyone’s sleeping off last night,” the motel manager explained. He gave Clark a small grin, “We’re actually having a local festival and if I know the locals, they’re all gearing up for when the sun sets. The festivities happen at night.”  
  
That reason sat odd with Clark, but he figured it was part of what made Sunnydale stand out.  
  
“So I see you have an availability?” Clark offered, before remembering his manners, “Sorry, where are my manners,” he offered his hand, “Clark Kent.”  
  
“Well how do you do! The name’s Bob.” the go-lucky manager replied, taking his hand in his. He offered Clark a firm shake before commenting, “Not many people have manners like yours. And I must say you have very warm hands.”  
  
The last comment was punctuated with a rather large and unnerving smile. Trying to be polite Clark responded to his earlier comment, “Ma raised me to be polite.”  
  
“Very good,” Bob responded, once again chipper. He offered Clark a room key, “Room 13 is all yours. If you want, I can call up a friend to show you around town. To be honest, you probably won’t be able to do anything with the locals until the sun sets anyways.”  
  
“I don’t really want to be a bother…” Clark began, but he was interrupted.  
  
“Nonsense!” the motel manager was not having any of it, “It’d be my pleasure. I’ll have her pick you up around 8:00 from your room?”  
  
“Sure, I really appreciated,” Clark replied. He shouldered his bag and decided to get settled in. His guide would be here soon and it didn’t seem necessary to explore beforehand. After all, he’d develop a more thorough understanding of the area from a local’s perspective than his own.  
  
As he left the office, he couldn’t help but overhear Bob making a phone call.  
  
“Hey… Faith?... We got some new blood in town…”  
  
About an hour later, Clark received a knock at the door. Opening it, he found a small brunette, oozing with sex appeal.  
  
She wore a revealing blood red halter and tight black leather pants; she reminded Clark of one of those biker girls. Only bikers normally wouldn’t have given him the time of day, never mind eye him like she did. She ran her tongue over her dark lips, obviously taking him in. To say that Clark was uncomfortable would be an understatement.  
  
“You Clark?” she aske. Without waiting for his answer, she sashayed her way into his room and closed the door.  
  
“Uh, Yeah,” why did every attractive woman turn him into a moron?  
  
“Good,” she gave him a feral grin before shoving him back onto the bed. The bed had been a good four feet away.  
  
“Woah, you’re strong,” Clark commented dumbly.  
  
In one smooth and practiced motion, Faith jumped onto the bed, pinning him with her arms and legs. Bringing her face near his neck she whispered, “That ain’t all I am.”  
  
Clark shivered at their proximity; something about this woman called to him. Unsurprisingly he felt himself growing rigid beneath her.  
  
She grinned at his body’s response and began grinding her lower body against his. The building heat and friction was doing nothing to settle Clark’s nerves. In fact, it was doing the opposite. Soon he’d lose all the control he’d painstakingly developed over the years.  
  
Fighting off a moan, Clark began, “Look, miss…”  
  
“I ain’t no miss,” she croaked with a laugh, “Name’s Faith.”  
  
“Well, Faith,” Clark tried again, “As attractive as you are, I’m not interested—“  
  
“Bull,” she interrupted him, pulling up slightly. She still had his arms and lower body pinned. Leaning down, she brought her lips a mere millimeter away from his. “You want this.”  
  
For emphasis she ground her crotch into his, eliciting another groan, “Beg for it.” She demanded.  
  
“Faith—” she viciously thrust at him again, distracting him from forming a coherent thought.  
  
He tried again, but the moment he opened his mouth, Faith nipped at his neck. He moaned.  
  
“Look, Faith—“ she forcefully pulled him into a heated kiss, crushing his lips against hers. Leaning back slowly, she bit his lower lip, pulling it up with her. Slowly and agonizingly she finally let it go and whispered into Clark’s ear, “Beg.”  
  
“Please.”  
  
Next thing Clark felt was her hand slipping down his pants and a sharp pain at his neck. As Faith continued to tend to his neck, he felt his body begin to convulse at her touch. He felt amazing and the feeling grew with each passing second, but something was wrong. He felt himself getting weaker and weaker as Faith seemed to get more and more excited. Finally, Faith sat up, her face twisted into a demonic visage. Her forehead was contorted with many bony ridges and her eyes were predatory yellow.  
  
Panicked, Clark tried to push her off, but found his arms barely responding. They just kind of flopped there. In horror, he asked her, “What are you?”  
  
With a mouthful of blood, Faith grinned down at him, “Only ever Slayer turned vampire. Better question is lover, what are you?” leaning down close to his ear, she nibbled on it, both pleasuring and horrifying Clark at the same time, “Never had blood as good as yours.”  
  
Clark tried to respond, but Faith bit back into his neck and began feeding once more. He felt himself weaken until the darkness threatened to overtake him. Faith seemed to realize this and sat back up. She softly trailed her hand down his cheek, almost lovingly, as he kept trying to remain conscious. The last words he heard before succumbing to the darkness filled him with dread.  
  
“You’re special, lover boy. I think I’m gonna keep you for a while.”   
  
  
  
Years later, when Darkseid and the forces of Akolopis threatened the very existence of earth, there would be no Superman to oppose them.  
  
 _Thankfully Giles of alternate-Earth-1337 did destroy the focus and alternate-alternate-Earth-1337 never came to be. Only alternate-Earth-1337 did. Think about it._


	14. Blush / Lightning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The holidays can lead to some interesting surprises.

* * *

**Blush**  
  
Clark greeted Faith at the door, "Hey."  
  
Like her previous visit to the Kent household, Faith was dressed nicer than normal. She offered him two crudely newspaper wrapped packages, "Here, I thought... with the Christmas spirit and all."  
  
"Thanks," he offered her a wide smile, "I got something for you too. Come on in."  
  
Faith gave him a glare as she walked through the door, "Why're you still inviting people in?" she demanded, clearly a little frustrated.  
  
Clark blushed, but it was more due to embarrassment than a mistake, "I know your scent," he admitted, not for the first time.  
  
Shaking her head, she countered, "If I went all vamp on you, I'd still smell the same.”  
  
Still slightly red, Clark shook his head in turn, "I know your heartbeat too."  
  
Obviously unsure what to say, Faith motioned further into the home, "Dinner ready soon?"  
  
"Yeah," Clark replied. He took a nervous glance towards the kitchen and dropped his voice, "Ma's been working on dinner all day. She's been a real slave driver."  
  
At that moment, Martha stuck her head out into the hall, "Did I just hear Faith arrive?"  
  
Clark mock whispered to Faith, "Get out while you still can!"  
  
Ignoring him with a small laugh, Faith gave Martha a small wave, "How's it going Mrs. Kent?"  
  
"How many times have I told you to call me Martha?" she demanded, before motioning to the living room, "Make yourself at home. Clark needs to help me finish off the mash before the others get here."  
  
Faith grabbed his arm before Clark could make it into the kitchen, "Who else is coming?" she demanded with a hiss.  
  
Surprised, Clark replied, "I thought you knew? Buffy, her mom, and Mr. Giles."  
  
"Oh, thought it was some big family thing," Faith replied in obvious relief. Offering a somewhat apologetic shrug she explained, "Don't do those.” After a beat, “Wasn't B doing something of her own?"  
  
"Well, after she asked you and found out that we were doing Christmas dinner... one thing led to another," again the mock whisper returned, "Let's just say when her mother and Ma get together, it's scary."  
  
"Not my problem," Faith shot back with a grin. Then she made a small shooing motion, "Go help with dinner, momma's boy."  
  
Fumbling for a comeback, Clark settled with sticking his tongue out immaturely. Faith had no problem socking him in the shoulder in retaliation. He made his way into the kitchen, trying to pretend like his shoulder wasn’t throbbing.  
  
Less than a few minutes later, the doorbell rang again.  
  
Clark went to open the door, only to see Faith had beaten him to it.  
  
"Hey Mrs. S," Faith greeted, somewhat shyly. In a bolder tone she nodded to Buffy, "B."  
  
The woman gave her a soft smile, "Hello Faith, Merry Christmas," while her daughter returned the simple greeting with her own nod, "Faith."  
  
There was an awkward pause as everyone traded looks, no one wanting to make the first move. Clark decided it was time to intervene. He walked up the open door and greeted his guests, "Hi Joyce, Buffy. Come on in."  
  
Joyce walked in with a small thank you, but Buffy's gaze was less happy. Quickly figuring the reason for her displeasure, Clark tapped a finger to his nose and ear, "Enhanced senses."  
  
With a small nod of acceptance the petite blonde continued her way into the house, examining the Kent household. Her mother, already ahead of her, had paused to look at some of the photos.  
  
“Is that your father?” she asked quietly, giving Clark a small smile, “You all look so happy together.”  
  
“Yeah,” Clark swallowed roughly. It was getting easier to talk about his Pa, but it was still a work in progress, “We were.” Looking at Joyce’s hands he found an opportunity to escape the awkwardness.  
  
“Wow, look at my manners!” he exclaimed, before offering his hands to Buffy’s mom, “Let me help you with that!” he took the casserole off her hands and proceeded quickly into the kitchen leaving a thoughtful Joyce and two bemused Slayers.  
  
“What a polite young man,” Joyce commented before turning to Faith, “Someone’s a lucky girl.”  
  
Fighting a furious blush, Faith replied, “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” at which point Joyce gave her a knowing look and Buffy doubled over in silent laughter. Inwardly seething, Faith promised herself sweet revenge on Buffy before the night was over.  
  
She was saved from further inquiry about her and Clark by Martha’s announcement that dinner was ready.  
  
Even the hall just outside the dining room carried its rich aroma. Clearly excited for dinner, Faith was first into the room and took a seat beside Clark’s. Buffy took the seat opposite her and Joyce sat opposite to Martha.  
  
“Dig in!” Martha said heartily as everyone offered a brief cheers before eating.  
  
There were several minutes of polite dish passing with the occasional remark made about the food. Once everyone was settled, Buffy noticed that Martha had prepared an extra place setting and had left some food on it.  
  
Curious, the blonde asked, “Who’s the last seat saved for?”  
  
Martha replied, “Well he said he might a bit be late—“  
  
And the doorbell interrupted her sentence, “There he is now.” Looking over to her son she asked, “Clark could you go get that?”  
  
“Sure thing Ma,” Clark quietly excused himself from the table as he made his way to the front door.  
  
“You’ve raised such a nice boy,” Joyce commented, watching him go.  
  
“We were always proud of him,” Martha replied with a smile. She was about to start a story when Clark walked in with their new guest.  
  
“Giles?!?” Buffy exclaimed surprised at his appearance.  
  
Her mother was even more surprised, “Rupert?”  
  
Giles’ exclamation was just as shocked, “Joyce?!?”  
  
With an amused, raised eyebrow, Martha asked, “You two know each other?”  
  
Buffy turned beet red, much to Clark and Faith’s amusement. Faith figured this might be the opportunity to get even. “What’s going on B?” she asked with a grin, her malicious intent hidden underneath. When Clark glanced at her questioningly, she just shrugged.  
  
“Nothing, nothing at all,” Buffy stammered, she began shaking her head furiously, “Mom and Giles never got with the frisky. Nope, nu-uh, never happened.” with a pained pause, concluded, “Ack, need brain soap.”  
  
At her denials, Faith guffawed loudly as Clark and Martha politely tried to hide their laughter. Joyce looked mortified, while Giles took off his glasses and began cleaning them. The two glowed quite like Rudolph’s nose.  
  
“T-t-t-hank you for that, Buffy,” Giles commented, as he fumbled to take a seat. He shifted ever so slightly to distance himself further from Joyce much to half of the table’s amusement.  
  
Clark found it particularly amusing and let out a loud string of laughter, barely able to contain himself. As everyone stared he explained, “It’s just, the three of you, are red enough to guide Santa’s sleigh tonight.” The joke was so corny even Giles managed to smile given the situation.  
  
“Clark,” his mother reprimanded.   
  
Taking a deep breath, Clark calmed himself down. It really wasn’t that funny in retrospect. Looking to the others he apologized, “Sorry Joyce, Giles, and Buffy.”  
  
“Actually, I thought it was time I gave you your gift,” his mother began, her tone mischievous. Looking at her, Clark recognized that look with growing horror.   
  
His mom suddenly turned to Faith, “Honey, I need you to look up.”  
  
Clark watched as Faith looked up, along with the rest of the table.  
  
Faith shot Martha a smirk before commenting, “You’re the best Martha.”  
  
Giles coughed politely and both Summers women laughed quietly at the dreaded hanging plant. Resigning himself to his fate, Clark turned reluctantly to Faith. As the two locked lips, he tried desperately not to blush.  
  
But it’s kind of hard not to with your mother telling you to use more tongue.  
  
  
.  
  
  
 **Lightning**  
  
"Holy fuck," Faith swore as she looked outside.  
  
Both mothers turned to glare at her and she winced, "Sorry."  
  
Clark who followed her gaze dropped the plate he was carrying.  
  
"Clark!" his mother admonished.  
  
But Clark was too distracted to care. Both mothers were quick to pick up on it.  
  
"What's going on Clark?" Joyce asked worriedly, after all, Buffy had just run off earlier to deal with a possibly dangerous situation.  
  
"It's snowing," he was staring out the window, frozen in awe, "In Sunnydale. I know I wanted a white Christmas, but..."  
  
Martha touched the window and found to her surprise it was cold, "I think this is real."  
  
Faith watched Clark's expression slowly morph from awe to excitement. He reached over and grabbed her hand, "Come on!" he exclaimed excitedly. Before Faith could even think, she was halfway out the door.  
  
"What're you doing?" she demanded as they got outside. She roughly tugged her hand out of his.  
  
"It's snowing!" Clark explained, spinning around. He was laughing like a maniac, "One thing I was going to miss most about Kansas was the snow!"  
  
His mood was contagious and Faith found herself trying to fight a smile at his happiness, "The stuff is cold and wet," she complained, "No snow was supposed to be one of the perks of Sunnyhell California."  
  
"Come on Faith! Stop being such a stick in the mud!" Clark bent down and began gathering some snow in his hands.  
  
Faith shook her head, the chill in the air was already starting to annoy her. This weather wasn't natural and she didn't feel like dropping her guard till B came back.  
  
"Clark I'm getting-" something cold and wet splatted against the back of her neck before she could finish. She shrieked as it slid down her back. Turning around, she glared at Clark, "You are so fucking dead." she promised before reaching for some snow of her own.  
  
Laughing, he dodged her first throw and her next. No matter how fast or furiously she threw them, she just couldn’t hit him. Clark didn’t bother holding back his powers as he probably figured Faith could handle herself. He figured right.  
  
Before Clark could finish creating a gigantic snowball of his own, Faith decided it'd be easier to tackle him. Surprised, Clark fell face first into his basketball sized snowball with Faith on top of his back.  
  
Now that she had him at her mercy, Faith decided discretion was for losers. Grabbing fistfuls of snow, she began mercilessly stuffing them down his shirt, despite his desperate attempts at blocking her.  
  
"Faith! Stop! Faith!" Although his words begged her to stop, the way he laughed asked for more.  
  
She needed to up the ante. Her next handful of snow found its way down his pants.  
  
It was his turn to shriek, his voice raising several octaves. He jumped up and knocked Faith off without even thinking. Dancing on the spot, he desperately tried to free his boxers of the snow before it melted.  
  
Much to Faith’s amusement, it took several moments of spastic shaking before Clark finally managed to calm down. The Slayer decided to head inside when her sensitive hearing picked up on something.  
  
Something sounded awfully like the scraping of snow...  
  
Turning around in a panic, Faith saw Clark with a snowball already rivaling the size of a large watermelon and it was continuing to grow, fast. In a panicked burst of speed, she almost made it inside.  
  
Almost. Before she could step over the threshold, she was suddenly tugged back by her collar and thrown onto a nearby bed of snow.  
  
Looking up in horror, she watched as Clark lifted the gigantic snowball over his head, "Hello, Faith."  
  
"Don't you fucking-" before Faith could finish, her face was smothered under a few feet of snow. After several seconds of a frozen hell, she managed to dig her face out. Clark had the balls to stand over her with that big ass grin of his. He. Was. So. Dead.  
  
Without acknowledging him, Faith began to gather a fistful of snow… No mercy.  
  
The snowy violence ended about half an hour later with both Faith and Clark collapsed in a sloppy pile. Both of them were drenched with sweat and water and neither of them had all their clothes. Although the cold could be uncomfortable for them, both of them were resilient enough, or tired enough to ignore their discomfort.  
  
As she turned to the house, Faith noticed that both mothers had long since retreated from the windows.  
  
"Hey Faith?" Clark asked as he stood up. He offered her a hand.  
  
"Yeah?" Faith took his hand. She was too tired to bother being crass and sassy.  
  
With a sudden tug, Clark pulled Faith to capture her lips in a searing kiss. Leaving her breathless he grinned, "Merry Christmas."  
  
Refusing to let him have the last word, Faith pulled him back for another kiss. When he ran out of breath, she shot back, "You too."   
  
In response, he pulled her close and she let him. It’d taken a while, but Faith had come to appreciate physical intimacy of a non-sexual kind, though she’d be loathed to admit it.  
  
She enjoyed the warmth and was once again surprised to find herself relaxing in his arms. Some mushy part of her never wanted the feeling to end and wanted the moment to last forever.   
  
Then his next words struck her like a lightning bolt.  
  
"I think I'm falling in love with you."  
  
Faith turned rigid at his words; paralyzed. Just when she'd gotten comfortable he had to go and pull this shit.  
  
She felt Clark regret his decision almost immediately, the warm embrace pulling away to the chill of the air.  
  
Spinning around, Faith refused to meet his eyes.  
  
"Faith." There was a pleading in his voice.  
  
She bolted.


	15. Exhaust / Collar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two relationships progress, hopefully for the better.

* * *

**Exhaust**  
  
Clark was exhausted.   
  
He’d like to blame it on the recent events: the absurd formation of Mothers Opposed to the Occult, or MOO for short, the resulting lynch mobs, but they weren’t really to blame. It had been worrying to find his own Ma caught up in the supernatural mob mentality, but the situation had resolved itself quite easily. With some careful monitoring and the judicial use of his powers, Clark and the townsfolk got through it all with only a single hitch: Amy’s unfortunate transformation into a rat. Willow was optimistic however, that the situation could be fixed soon. So no, it wasn’t recent events which led to his exhaustion, but rather Faith’s continued absence.  
  
Over two weeks since Faith disappeared, Clark felt like he’d been put through the wringer, both emotionally and physically.  
  
He knew he might’ve spooked her the moment his confession left his lips and he’d given her some space. But based on her reaction, she probably misread his intentions when she stepped back and had thought he regretted saying those words. Which he didn’t.  
  
He had been completely open and honest with her and would not regret doing so.   
  
At first, Clark knew that Faith would need space to process; so rather than to chase after her, Clark decided that it would be better for him to give her some time. He reasoned that when Faith was ready, she knew where he was. But one day, quickly turned into two days, which rolled into a week, and two weeks later, still not a word from the Slayer.  
  
He hadn’t sat around waiting the whole time. After the first week, Clark realized that if Faith wasn’t dealing with his confession properly. Worst case scenario, she may have run away all together and that thought terrified him. He diligently checked all her local haunts, but he was disappointed to find them time and time again empty. Her motel room had been no help; the room looked like it did the day she moved in, leaving Clark with nothing to go by. Even his extraordinary gifts were proving unhelpful, which in itself was damning.   
  
If Faith had been within the Sunnydale limits the past week, Clark would have picked up some trace of her, whether it be her unique scent or her telltale heartbeat. The fact that Clark couldn’t pick up on either was frustrating and the fact that she’d ran, angering. He’d opened up to her and she’s just run in fear, something she herself had criticized him for, not so long ago. But despite his anger at her for her hypocrisy, he would still want her back in a heartbeat.  
  
So with MOO crisis resolved, Clark made his way around town for the dozenth time, in the futile hope of finding a trace of Faith.  
  
Then he smelt it: the familiar scent of sweat, blood, and leather. In his quickest burst of speed to date, Clark found himself outside of Faith’s old motel room in less than two minutes. Staring at the door, he barely allowed himself to hope.  
  
He hesitantly knocked on the door, “Faith?”  
  
There was the sound of scrambling inside and he waited. He’d waited two weeks, he could wait another ten seconds. After what felt like forever, the door unlocked with an audible click and swung open to reveal Faith.  
  
She looked great. In fact, she looked like she’d been there all along. With a small smile on her face she greeted him, “How’s it going?”  
  
Two weeks’ worth of pent up fear, anger, and frustration boiled over.   
  
“How’s it going?” exclaimed Clark, his words sounded delirious even to his own ears, “How’s it going!?! I’ve spent the last two weeks, worrying if you’re ok. If I messed up. Or if something happened to you. And then you show up out of the blue as though nothing had happened, and ask me, How’s it going?!?”  
  
Taking a deep breath, Clark continued before she could respond, “I’ll tell you how it’s going. It’s fuck-freaking-tastic! Everyone in town goes loopy for a few days, including my Ma, and the whole time I’m still thinking about you and if you’re alright,” his anger began to dissipate as he continued, “I missed you Faith, but I’m also super angry. How could you do that to me and everyone else?”  
  
Faith turned away at his anger, clearly ashamed of herself. Clark waited for her explanation or some excuse to make things better between them. He wanted to love her, but she was making it really hard to.  
  
“Well?” he demanded. She refused to meet his eyes, which meant what she had to say would be tough.  
  
He watched as she took a deep breath and gather her resolve. She met his gaze firmly and ignoring the fact her eyes were watering ever so slightly.  
  
“I think I love you too,” she managed to whisper. Too quiet for the human ear, but for Clark it was enough.  
  
Overwhelmed with emotion, he brought her in for a passionate kiss. He felt Faith respond automatically and wrap her legs around him, dancing her tongue around his. Familiar tastes, smells, and feelings interwove in Clark’s mind and the next hour disappeared in a passion-filled-blur.  
  
Afterwards, Clark found himself laying on the coffee table completely spent. He felt Faith move closer beside him.  
  
She whispered to him for the second time in weeks, “I’m so sorry Clark.” And he knew she was.  
  
Taking a hesitant hand, he cupped the side of her face and kissed her forehead, “I forgive you,” he gave her a small grin and continued, “We just have to move on from here.”  
  
Recognizing her own words, Faith contentedly snuggled into the crook of his arm. The two lay there in a companionable silence for several minutes until she got restless.  
  
“Hey Clark?” she asked, her voice was still unusually quiet and subdued.  
  
Looking down at her, he found himself asking, “What?”  
  
With sudden return to form, Faith wore her shit-eating grin, “Best makeup sex ever?”  
  
Clark would have groaned, but at that moment, the coffee table gave its final groan instead and collapsed, having succumbed to the abuse it they’d just put it through.  
  
As Clark lay in a pile of broken wood, he took the time to relax for the first time since Christmas. Beside him, Faith rolled around hollering and laughing at the state of her motel room; she’d never get her safety deposit back. With a small smile, Clark pulled her close as she finally quieted.  
  
Faith was exhausting, but she was definitely worth it.  
  
  
.  
  
  
 **Collar**  
  
Giles tugged nervously at the collar of his shirt. Clark was standing before him looking quite upset and Faith, well, she looked bloody angry. The librarian was regretting sharing Clark _all_ of his work materials. Bloody careless of him.  
  
“Did you know?” the teen demanded, his voice conveying barely controlled hostility.  
  
Giles turned away ashamedly and started fiddling with his coat sleeve. He didn’t need to say anything as his reaction would be answer enough.  
  
Faith let out a snarl and leapt at him. Startled, Giles turned and stumbled backwards, smashing into the counter behind him. Thankfully, Clark interceded on his behalf and caught Faith midair.  
  
“What the fuck is wrong with you!” she screamed, struggling against Clark’s arms, “That shit is fucking twisted.” To say Faith was upset would be an understatement.  
  
“Why?” Clark’s tone was more controlled, but just as demanding of answers.  
  
Allowing himself a pained sigh, Giles tried to explain. While he spoke, he tried to convince himself at the same time, “The Cruciamentum has been a tradition of the Council—“  
  
Clark interrupted him angrily, “So, it keeps happening because it’s tradition?”  
  
“No,” Giles replied softly, his voice detached, “Few Slayers make it to the age.”  
  
“So what’s the point?” the Clark demanded. Beside him, Faith had calmed somewhat now that Giles was answering questions. Nonetheless, the librarian thought it prudent to keep a wary eye on the knife she was using to clean her nails.  
  
“It’s a test to determine whether a Slayer is strong enough, beyond the physical,” Giles explained wearily. The explanation irked him as well, but as the closest Watcher of the Council, he had obligations to fulfill.  
  
“And Buffy hasn’t proved that time and time again?” Clark demanded. Giles was glad to see Faith was allowing the other teen to take the lead in this discussion.   
  
Still, being chastised by someone not even half his age stung, even more so because on some level, Giles knew he was right. But, years of training and conditioning couldn't be easily ignored, “That’s not for me to decide. That’s what the Cruciamentum is for.”  
  
“Bullshit,” Faith shot back. She was much calmer than before, “It’s bullshit and you know it too,” her eyes were no longer angry, but were rather thoughtful.  
  
With another sigh, the librarian tried to defend the archaic ritual for the last time, “The test was designed to see how well a Slayer does without her powers.” At this point he was only convincing himself and failing miserably.  
  
It was likely that Clark picked up on it as well because he was suddenly much calmer as well, “Mr. Giles, the moment I read about the Cruciamentum, I knew it was wrong. And I know, that you know it’s wrong too,” his gaze was frighteningly perceptive and Giles found himself squirming at the truth in the words.  
  
Unable to look away, the librarian appreciated the compassion in the young man’s gaze, “I know you’re in a tough spot between the Council and doing what’s best for Buffy. But Faith and I are willing to do what’s necessary to help.”  
  
Thankful for his sincerity, Giles seriously contemplated his offer for several moments before replying, “I will need some time to think, but yes, I believe something must be done as we near Buffy’s birthday.”  
  
Clark nodded in understanding and headed out the door, “I’d like to hear from you soon though.”  
  
The librarian voiced his affirmation and was unsurprised to find Faith staying behind. She made a shooing motion to Clark when he paused at the exit.  
  
The door to the library closed with an audible _Thunk!_   
  
Before he could even respond, the Slayer had lifted him by his collar. The two gazed at one another for several seconds before Faith spoke, “If I think B is losing even a bit of her powers, I’m locking you in a room with a vampire. See if you’ve got what it takes.” The words were a not a threat, but a statement of fact. One Giles understood and would have fully endorsed had their situation been reversed.  
  
“I understand,” Giles replied before he was slowly lowered back onto the ground. When Faith let go he sincerely added, “I’m glad Buffy has someone such as yourself watching her back.”  
  
Obviously trying to hide her embarrassment, Faith quickly made towards the exit, only to pause at the door. She turned around and met Giles’ eyes, “She’s lucky Clark’s got her back too,” and like that she was gone.  
  
Fixing his shirt, Giles thought to himself _Lucky indeed._  
  
There was planning to be done.


	16. Haze / Duck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being tricky and taking care of oneself.

* * *

**Haze**  
  
“Giles is going to inject me.”  
  
Buffy said it so matter-of-factly, that Clark almost didn’t question it. Almost.  
  
But then again, the idea was absolutely insane, “Buffy you can’t fight a vampire without any of your powers!”  
  
She clearly wasn’t thinking right, but Giles wasn’t trying to dissuade her either. In fact it looked like he was silently supporting her. Turning to Faith, Clark realized he might not be getting help there either as Faith suddenly clammed up.  
  
“Sure I can,” Buffy countered flippantly.   
  
Clark tried to reason with her, “Buffy, I know Giles’ position as a Watcher is important. It won’t mean a thing if you’re dead.”  
  
He knew he’d crossed a line when Buffy’s demeanour suddenly changed. Looking into her eyes, Clark finally understood, not just knew, why Buffy was such a successful Slayer. For all her outward appearance, Buffy was anything but a shallow, airheaded-blonde. Most of the time.   
  
Unable to maintain the tension any longer, Clark was the first to look away and he carefully avoided everyone else’s gaze. Faith, who had been standing beside him, dealt him a light blow to the shoulder, “B’s got this. Maybe you should listen to what she has to say?”  
  
Giles coughed awkwardly into his hand, “Yes, quite. Buffy didn’t exactly get around to explaining the nuances of the plan.”   
  
_Of course she didn’t._ Clark grimaced.  
  
“Hey!” Buffy exclaimed. She seemed upset by Giles’ comment, “I’m the Slayer, it’s not my job to make with the splainey. That’s your job.” Despite her well pronounced pout, no one said anything until she began her explanation.  
  
With a dramatic sigh, she quickly summarized, “I’m going to take the needles, go on patrol, and when it comes time to fight in the coliseum—“  
  
“Cruciamentum,” Giles corrected softly with a smile.   
  
Taking it all in stride, Buffy continued, much to Faith’s amusement, “—like I said, the coliseum.” Under different circumstances Clark would have found the blonde Slayer’s butchering of the English language amusing, but right now he was far too concerned for her wellbeing.  
  
“… Afterwards, the Council is gonna be all like, oh hey! Slayer-gal did it without her super-duper powers! Hurrah! Let’s get some crumpets and tea then make our jolly way back to the Motherland,” Buffy continued. She waved her arms with great enthusiasm and energy, further amusing both Faith and Giles. Clark on the other hand, grew only more and more withdrawn.  
  
Buffy suddenly dropped her voice to a comical whisper, “Here’s the sitch though, what those Council-jerks won’t know, is that you and Faith are going to be hiding in the building ready to stake the vamp.”  
  
By the end of her explanation, Buffy had dropped the playful façade and was looking to Clark for his agreement.  
  
“What’s to stop the Council from suspecting Faith’s interference?” Clark asked. It was an obvious hole in the plan.  
  
Giles reached up to clean his glasses, only to remember he’d left them in his office. “Aherm, about that,” he began awkwardly, “I may have forgotten to inform the Council of Faith’s return after her abrupt disappearance this Christmas…”  
  
That horrified Clark, only because the Council had some nefarious practices when dealing with rogue Slayers, “But won’t they declare her rogue soon?”  
  
“Naw, the Watcher’s already figured it out,” Faith explained to him with a grin. She was finding his worry amusing— _great._  
  
“And?” Clark asked. Faith’s grin promised an assortment of hoops to jump through, but he really needed to know that she’d be safe as well.  
  
“Well…” she drawled out, leaning into him. In another second she’d be pressed up right against him and that’d be awkward considering the company.  
  
“She’s on a demon hunt,” interjected Buffy. She clearly didn’t want further PDA of that nature, and Clark was more than happy to oblige.  
  
“Spoilsport,” Faith shot a look at the blonde.  
  
She just rolled her eyes in return, “Get a room already.”  
  
“Already got one,” Faith replied with a wink. Everyone suppressed a groan of exasperation, with varying levels of success. Clark groaned the loudest, while Giles managed to remain silent by pinching the bridge of his nose.  
  
“Eww,” commented Buffy, scrunching her nose, “Don’t need images of you and Clark bumping uglies.”  
  
“There ain’t nothing ugly about it,” Faith shot back with a smirk. Clark tried to cover her mouth with his hand, but she was too quick and darted around a table, “Actually B… you haven’t had a good lay to go with your slay in a while. Wanna join us?”  
  
Horrified, Clark and Buffy both exclaimed, “No!” at the exact same time.  
  
Faith slapped her leg, bent over in laughter, “You should see your faces!” she wiped a fake tear away, “This shit’s too good.”  
  
Giles, completely mortified tried to steer the conversation back to one he could actively take part in.  
  
With a loud cough, he turned to Clark, “Can I ask you to follow Buffy on her patrols to ensure all goes well?”  
  
“Well…” Clark turned to Faith. He knew she could handle herself, but he’d made it a habit of following her during her patrols, just in case.  
  
She gave him a knowing nod.  
  
“Yeah, I’ll do it,” Clark said without much further thought.  
  
“Much appreciated Clark,” Giles replied, softly. Clark returned the smile.  
  
With a decisive nod, Giles walked into his office and walked out with a briefcase, “We are scheduled for the first injection.”  
  
Buffy suddenly looked terrified, “Like now? Can’t you wait until I’m asleep or something?”  
  
Clark and Faith watched on amused as Giles tried to cajole Buffy into taking the shot, but finally settled on the method he would have done anyways for the Cruciamentum.  
  
“So make with the hypnotizing already,” Buffy pouted, adding extra bottom lip extension for good measure. The funny thing was, it probably wasn’t working the way she intended.  
  
With an exasperated sigh, Giles placed a large crystal on the table in front of her, “I need you to focus on the colour of the crystal…”  
  
The blonde squinted, “I think it’s getting hazey,” a beat later, “Is it working?”  
  
“No Buffy, you should not be seeing a haze,” Giles explained exasperated, “I need you to remember the meditation techniques I taught you.”  
  
A few exasperated minutes later, little progress had been made. The crystal went from hazey, to foggy, to blurry, and finally it resembled Buffy’s nose, complete with an emerging _Gasp!_ zit, when she fully went cross-eyed.  
  
Giles rubbed his temples in frustration, “Buffy I need you to relax.”  
  
Clark was watching the whole thing with a whole new level of amusement. Beside him however, it was Faith’s turn to get frustrated; she was far less patient than Clark. Unable to put up with the bickering any longer, Faith took the needle from Giles’ hand and jabbed into roughly into Buffy’s left butt cheek. Horrified, Clark and Giles waited for Buffy’s reaction.  
  
Instead they were surprised to see her still squinting furiously at the crystal, “Guys… it’s hazey again.”  
  
.  
  
  
 **Duck**  
  
“So how’s your mom?” Faith asked Buffy quietly. The two of them hadn’t really spent any actual time together since her return to Sunnydale.  
  
“You know, a little freaked out about the whole thing, but getting better,” Buffy replied honestly.  
  
Their plan went off mostly without a hitch, well, the gist of it did. The vamp broke loose, abducted Joyce and almost killed Buffy. But in the end, the Council thought Buffy had beaten him alone and that Giles was just a highly disgruntled Watcher. It wouldn’t stop them from sending another for Faith, but it helped keep the peace between the Slayers and the Council. Though Buffy did threaten Travers’ manhood if she ever saw him again.  
  
“How’re you doing?” Buffy asked in return, probably thinking Faith wouldn’t answer honestly.  
  
“I’m finding my way,” Faith responded honestly. When Buffy turned in surprise, the brunette smirked, “Sorry, B, I’m a one person kinda gal.”  
  
“Wha-huh-no!” Watching her fellow slayer trip over her words was fun as shit.  
  
Buffy took a deep breath, “Never took you as a one man kinda girl,” she offered, twirling a stake in her hands. She was still a bit lacking of her usual dexterity, but it’d do. “So things are going well with you and Clark?” she asked curiously.  
  
Faith smiled, “Yeah. They are.”  
  
Slightly put out at how happy Faith was, Buffy tried to brighten the mood, “Up for some food after patrol?”  
  
“Naw, I’ve got a date tonight,” the brunette replied, she gave Buffy a smirk, “Got an itch that needs scratching.”  
  
Managing to control her blush, Buffy responded, “Hey! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, don’t need to know about you and Clark bumping uglies.”  
  
“Clark’s got some biology assignment,” Faith offered with a shrug, “He ain’t giving me any tonight.”  
  
“Huh?” Buffy was completely confused.  
  
“Gotta date with Mallard,” the smirk Faith wore could have belonged to the devil.  
  
“Mallard who?” Buffy asked, still confused. Her voice was getting a little shrill, “Who’s Mallard? What happened to a one man sort of gal? What about Clark?”  
  
After several seconds, Faith burst out laughing, unable to hold it back any longer.  
  
“Mallard’s a gift Clark got me for Christmas,” the brunette explained as Buffy huffed indignantly.  
  
“What’s so special about Mallard?” the blonde demanded, slightly miffed at Faith’s coyish responses.  
  
“I’ve only tried him a few times, but Mallard keeps me company in the bath tub,” the brunette’s eyes misted over as she recalled a pleasurable memory, “Completely water proof, vibrates on several settings, and scratches my itches—“  
  
“Eww! Mind soap!” Buffy exclaimed, finally realizing what Faith was describing, “I so, did not need to know that!”  
  
Faith shrugged, “Your loss. Clark says his mom helped him buy it.”  
  
Chocking on her spit, Buffy almost tripped, “She-what?”  
  
The brunette grinned, “Martha’s a cool ass woman. Don’t know how Clark turned out so uptight.”  
  
Shaking her head, Buffy continued their stroll through the park. Some things weren’t worth thinking about.  
  
“Wait, why do you call it Mallard?”  
  
Faith looked at her like it should be obvious, “It’s shaped like a duck.”


	17. Tessellated / Concrete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeppo no more. Hopefully.

* * *

**Tessellated**  
  
"The tessellation pattern of its scales are absolutely amazing," Giles commented in awe.  
  
"Less admiring and more chopping Watcher-Mine!" Buffy called out as she dodged another grasping tentacle.  
  
The apocalypse was happening and Clark was in the middle of it. A group, Clark couldn't really remember at the moment, had started a ritual to open the Hellmouth and now they were in the library of all places fighting a giant tentacle monster thing. Apparently the other group members forgot to mention that the center of the Hellmouth was literally below the library.  
  
Staying near the edge of the room, Willow was reciting a long incantation which would hopefully banish the monster and reseal the Hellmouth. It was up to Angel, Buffy, Giles, Clark and Faith to keep the demon occupied. So far the most effective method was, as Buffy aptly said, 'chopping'.  
  
Using an axe, Clark managed to score a deep gash on a nearby tentacle, eliciting a screech of pain from the monster. Faith leapt in to follow it up and completely severed the appendage, leaving it to flop aimlessly on the floor.  
  
"Nice shot!" Faith shouted as she landed into a roll. Clark shot her a wearied glance, he may be physically superior, but this was one of the first times in a long while where he was actually being pushed to his limits. For all his strength, the monster was stronger and for all his speed, Clark had no idea how to maintain an offensive, never mind properly disable and distract the creature. Thankfully everyone else seemed to have a better grasp of it.  
  
Faith and Buffy were astounding to watch. They leapt all over the place slashing, dodging, and in general make Clark feel like a clumsy bull. Angel was nothing to scoff at either. Although the vampire was less nimble than the two Slayers, his sword fighting possessed an elegance Clark wouldn't have thought possible when fighting a giant tentacle monster. Even Giles, who Clark assumed was more of the research type, knew how to handle himself in the situation and actively support the other frontline fighters by striking at opportune moments.  
  
Everything was going well until Buffy slipped on some cracked rubble. To everyone's horror, one of the tentacles snaked up and grabbed her arm, wrenching her violently into the air. The blonde screamed in pain as her shoulder dislocated with the sudden motion.  
  
"Buffy!" Angel was first to act, throwing all his caution to the wind. As a result, he didn't notice the incoming tentacle which sent him flying into the nearby wall.  
  
"Fuck!" Faith swore and dove in, desperately trying to free Buffy. She was rushing blindly, which similar to Angel, left her open to an attack.  
  
Stepping in, Clark managed to grab the tentacle before it smashed her from behind. As he struggled against it, Giles managed to deal it a deep cut, almost severing it. In an impressive feat of strength, Clark pulled the tentacle until it tore free, having forgotten his axe when he jumped in.  
  
Turning back to the fight, Clark was glad to see both Buffy and Faith were alive and out of the thing's grasp.  
  
Buffy gave Faith a quick nod as the brunette Slayer grabbed her arm. With a quick jerk the two popped Buffy's shoulder back in with only the slightest grimace of pain. And quicker than Clark would have expected the two were at it again.  
  
The two fought with a ferocity Clark wouldn't have thought possible. To his astonishment, he also noticed that Buffy was protecting Angel's prone form all the while. Turning to Giles, he saw the man take a stance in front of Willow, to protect her from any stray appendages.   
  
About to take up a stance beside the librarian, Clark was distracted by the sound of Xander's voice nearby. That didn't make any sense, Buffy had sidelined him earlier, "Xander?" he called out confused, looking around.  
  
"Xander's. Not. Here." Faith ground out between a series of vicious swings.  
  
Buffy on the other hand took a flying leap to slash at a slow moving tentacle, "Xander's at home Clark!"  
  
"I know, but..." Clark refocused his attention in time to receive a painful blow to the head. Flying through the air, Clark felt his head break through the drywall on impact and then hit something harder. Fighting off the incoming darkness, he heard Faith cry out for him.  
  
"Clark!"  
  
Waking up after the fight had been terrible. The first few seconds of consciousness had been some of Clark's scariest.  
  
"Faith! Buffy!" he sat up suddenly, his head colliding painfully against someone else's.  
  
"Ow," Faith sat back, rubbing her head. Apparently she'd been leaning over him when he came to.  
  
Grabbing his throbbing head, Clark was relieved to notice that the library had returned to normal, well as normal as a completely demolish library should be.  
  
"What happened?" he asked quietly. His shouting earlier hadn't helped his head.  
  
"You got distracted," Faith replied; her face was unusually serious, "You scared the shit out of me, Clark."  
  
Ashamed, Clark looked away, "I didn't mean to get in the way."  
  
"Red managed to get the spell off pretty much right after you went through the wall," the brunette explained, "The others are making sure Angel is still, well, undead."  
  
Looking over to the other side of the library, Clark watched Buffy huddle over Angel's prone form. He still hadn't woken yet and the blonde was on the verge of tears. Giles stood behind her, seemingly conflicted about the situation. But Clark noticed his cousin was missing.  
  
"Where's Willow?" Clark asked worriedly, "Is she ok?"  
  
Faith nodded, "The mojo took a lot out of her. She's just laying down a bit. G-man says she'll be fine." Looking at him with concern, the Slayer coughed awkwardly into her hand.  
  
Clark knew she was struggling with something, "What is it Faith?"  
  
"I know you're super and all, but I thought I lost you tonight..." she whispered, gently touching her forehead to his, "I don't know how I'd be if I actually lost you."  
  
Clark set his face and reply, "It won’t happen again." He promised. He was already formulating a plan to prevent the same situation from reoccurring.  
  
Faith searched his eyes and then nodded in understanding. She'd probably had an idea of what he wanted to do, "Xander would probably want in too."  
  
Before he could reply, Clark heard Buffy's exclamations from the other side of the room. Angel had regained consciousness.   
  
Looking over at Buffy's relieved face made Clark's heart ache. He never wanted to put Faith through something similar every again.  
  
Pulling her close, he lay back on the floor to relax. As he admired the tessellated ceiling tiles he made a promise to himself. Never again.  
  
  
.  
  
  
 **Concrete**  
  
Concrete. Hard unforgiving concrete.  
  
Xander groaned as he met it once more.  
  
Angel stood off to the side, an amused look on his face, "Again."  
  
With a far too easy motion, Clark lifted Xander up to prepare for another toss. Flipping through the air, the teen could only think, _Why did I agree to this again?_  
  
After the near apocalypse, the farm boy had approached him about being sidelined.  
  
"Xander?" Clark asked tentatively.  
  
Putting on his playful face, Xander exclaimed, "How's it going Farmboy?"  
  
Looking awkward, he responded with a question, "Were you at the school last night?"  
  
Like a deer caught in headlights, Xander froze. Busted. "Uh... what makes you say that?"  
  
Obviously seeing through his terrible act, Clark gave him a sardonic grin, "Well, I thought I heard you fighting with someone last night. Kinda distracted me enough to take a tentacle to the face."  
  
"Ouch," Xander winced in sympathy, "Sorry about that. It was no big, not really."  
  
Clark stared at him seriously, "I heard mentions of a bomb and destroying the school."  
  
"What? Does the school look blown up to you?" Xander demanded. He waved his arms in front of him, "I promise you, there will be no blowing up of the school. Ever."  
  
Clark gave him a knowingly look, like he knew what the other teen had prevented the night previous. "I hope so," the former Kansas resident offered him a lighter grin, "As much as I hate school, I don't want to see it gone that badly."  
  
Xander winced again, this time comically. He raised a hand tentatively, "Can I take back the never blowing up the school thing?"  
  
In a conspiratorial tone, Clark raised his own hand to hide his mock whisper, "To be honest if anyone was going to blow up the school. It'd be Buffy."  
  
The other teen fought back a guffaw, "Buffy?"  
  
Clark raised an eyebrow, "She's already burned down a school gym on an account of 'smoking mice'. Who's to say Sunnydale High isn't next?"  
  
Shuddering at a memory, Xander offered, "Remind me to tell you about when I got her a grenade launcher."  
  
Clark groaned, "Do I even want to know?"  
  
Nodding sagely, the jokester replied, "It was all in the name of the greater good."  
  
"I'm sure," Clark replied with a roll of his eyes. He coughed into his hand, using it as an awkward segue, "Actually there's another reason I wanted to talk to you..."  
  
And now here Xander was, getting bruised and battered all over by Clark. Clark had mentioned that they both sorely lacked the training and ability to properly back up the Slayers in a fight. Though it was totally unfair to put them both on the same level. Xander had punched cement with more give than Clark's face.  
  
Angel, who had been reluctant to help at first, had been won over by Clark's sincerity and heartfelt reasoning. As far as Xander figured, Angel wanted someone to help watch over Buffy if he wasn't around. Watching Xander get kicked around all over the place was probably a bonus for Deadboy. Which brought it all back full circle.  
  
Impacting the ground, Xander let out a groan.  
  
"Xander are you alright?" Clark exclaimed. What made it worse was that Clark was generally worried for his safety and didn't want to hurt him; part of his problem to begin with. He didn't do violence.  
  
With a thud, Xander let his head fall on the floor. Here they were, a messed up trio of a vampire with a soul, a super strong/super-fast alien who had trouble hurting evil things, and Xander, a regular human just trying to keep up. And the concrete—can’t forget the concrete: the cold, unforgiving concrete.


	18. Pudding / Pad / Noise / Salty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fun, someone new, and some angst.

* * *

**Pudding**  
  
The library doors opened, letting in Buffy and Willow. Faith greeted them both with a small nod of her head.  
  
"What's up with Xander?" Buffy asked curiously, watching her frozen friend.  
  
The teen in question was staring off into space with a dreamy look in his eyes. There was also a line drool threatening to drop off his chin.  
  
Faith shot a glance at Xander with a grin. Turning back to Buffy, she shrugged her shoulders, "Just something I said?"  
  
"What did you say?" Willow demanded, her eyes narrowing. At least the tone was less accusatory than it would have been before Faith's return. Unfortunately, if Red was trying to be civil and play nice, that meant Faith was expected to too.  
  
"He was feeling kinda blue with the whole training thing," Faith let out, not really explaining anything.  
  
"And?" Buffy asked, obviously interested.  
  
"Well, I told him, what I'd give to watch hot sweaty Clark getting it on with hot sweaty Xander," Faith shot back, her smirk widening.  
  
"Ewww!" Buffy exclaimed, though the look in the blonde's eye said she'd be interested too.  
  
Willow on the other hand, turned the same colour as her hair. Probably because she'd already had dirty thoughts about the teen in the past.  
  
Faith kept her face stoic as she cackled maniacally on the inside. Everyone was just so easy to rile up at the briefest mention of sex or anything sex-related. Eventually, Buffy's curiousity won out against her horror.  
  
"So why's Xander like that then?" she asked tentatively.  
  
"Well," Faith replied, drawing out her answer, "I may have mentioned pudding, wrestling, me, you-"  
  
"What!?!" Buffy exclaimed, clearly freaked out over the idea. She didn’t need to act like it’d be so horrible; Faith snickered, it probably be fun.  
  
Willow on the other hand suddenly seemed more interested in the conversation again. Perking up, she asked knowingly, "So, he's been thinking about it ever since?"  
  
Faith met her eyes, confused by what she saw there. There was genuine interest in Red's eyes... Shaking her head, the brunette Slayer replied to the question, "Yeh. He's been like that for about five minutes now."  
  
Willow spared her childhood friend a glance and giggled at his blanked-out expression. She shared a warm smile with Faith, much to the Slayer's surprise. Buffy on the other hand, was not handling the news as well.  
  
Obviously upset, the blonde stomped over to Xander before dealing him a solid blow to the back of the head.  
  
"Ow!" Xander started, before he noticed his surroundings. "What was that for Buff?"  
  
Buffy crossed her arms in a decidedly offended fashion, "Faith and I are not wrestling, with pudding."  
  
"How about with mud?" Faith offered, edging her fellow Slayer on.  
  
"No!" Buffy exclaimed, clearly annoyed.  
  
"Oil?" Willow suggested with a small smirk. Go Red.  
  
The blonde began fervently shaking her head, "There will be no pudding, mud, or oil of any kind!" shaking her hands as well for added effect she concluded, "No wrestling Faith! Ever!"  
  
"Awww, B" Faith decided to over pronounce her pout, "I thought you liked me?"  
  
Her only response was a deadly glare. Again, inner Faith was cackling.   
  
Xander tried to defend himself, "It wasn't my fault Buffy! If Faith gets to think of me wrestling with Clark, I get to think of her wrestling with-"  
  
"Don't. Even. Think about it." Buffy interrupted, enunciating every word. She shot him an angry glare.  
  
"Don't give me that shit, B. You know you'd want to see that just as much as me," Faith jeered and when the blonde didn't give, she added, "What if we threw half-naked broody into the mix."  
  
Buffy winced slightly at the mention at Angel, but then really considered it. Her eyes glazed over for a moment, much to Faith and Willow's amusement.  
  
"Hey! Who's thinking nasty thoughts now!" demanded Xander, ruining the moment.  
  
Meanwhile, Clark and Oz were making their way to the library, when Clark looked through the window into the library. He quickly took it all in. The way that Faith was laughing like mad, the various stages of embarrassment, and the visibly offended Buffy all sent his self-preservation instinct off.  
  
"Uh, let me know if anything big happens," Clark murmured to Oz, "I gotta go... clean my room."  
  
Oz raised a lazy eyebrow at his friend's abrupt retreat; he was too busy eating to respond. He shrugged his shoulders and entered the library in time to hear Buffy scream something incoherent at Xander.  
  
The moment he walked in, the whole room paused. He licked his spoon, purposefully ignoring the awkward silence.  
  
Faith began to laugh hysterically and Willow giggled, while Xander and Buffy both looked terribly mortified. Taking it all in, the werewolf raised his lazy eyebrow once more before finishing his pudding.  
  
  
.  
  
  
 **Pad**  
  
Sitting down excitedly with his notepad, Faith’s new Watcher, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, prepared himself for a discussion with his new charge.  
  
Faith on the other hand could care less; in fact, if Clark hadn’t talked her into it, she wouldn’t be meeting with the windbag to begin with.  
  
Looking up, the Watcher gave Faith a grin, “Would you care to report to me the results of your patrol last night?”  
  
She offered a shrug, “Walked a bit, killed a few vamps, ate a burger, and went home.”  
  
Frowning, Wesley was obviously dissatisfied, “I’m afraid I will need a little more detail than that, Faith.”  
  
Clark decided to chime in on her behalf, “Yesterday she patrolled the two graveyards in the Northern part of town. The vampires she killed were two fledglings, one in each graveyard. Faith thinks they’re the same sire, based on the bite pattern on their neck.” Shooting a grin at Faith he added, “I believe she had a double cheeseburger from Fred’s Burgers afterwards.”  
  
Wesley frowned at him, “Thank you Mr…”   
  
“Kent,” Clark filled in, reminding the Watcher of his name, “Just call me Clark.”  
  
The Watcher frowned even deeper at that. Trying to be polite, the Watcher began, “As thankful as I am for the information, this meeting was to be between just myself and—“  
  
“Clark stays,” Faith interrupted. She appeared casual, but the crossing of her arms and the tightness in her fingers told Clark a different story.  
  
Slightly flustered, the Brit fiddled with his glasses a little, “Well, I suppose it isn’t that much of an issue.”  
  
“He stays.” Faith’s flat statement brought him to a stop.  
  
“I am to be your Watcher,” Wesley replied, adopting a sterner tone, “If we are to develop a proper working relationship, you are to learn your place.” Looking down, the Watcher started writing furiously onto his notepad.  
  
Faith sat up, intent on physically expressing her opinion, but Clark decided to intervene. Placing a hand on her shoulder, Clark managed to stop her from getting up. He gave her a look to which she glared back. After several seconds, she sighed and sat back down, the fight leaving her.  
  
After punctuating a particularly vicious period, Wesley turned his attention back to Faith, “I realize the reports have been accurate and Rupert has indeed been too soft on both you and Buffy,” the Watcher observed, incorrectly or not.  
  
Clark didn’t get to Faith in time, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” she was standing menacingly over the desk. Wesley cowered with as much dignity as he could muster.  
  
He pushed his chair back to put more space between him and the table, “I will not be—“  
  
“Faith, sit down please,” Clark began to pinch the bridge of his nose. Oh crap.  
  
Glaring at Wesley for an extra few seconds, Faith sat down slowly, before giving Clark a small grin. She commented, “When did you join the tweed brigade?”  
  
Realizing what he was doing in horror, Clark simply shot back, “Shut up.”  
  
Wesley observed their interaction unfavourably, “I must ask Clark, why are you here?”  
  
Clark was about to answer, but the Watcher continued, frustrated at the lack of progress he was making on his first day, “For that matter, why does Giles continue to allow the interference of civilians in Slayer business?”  
  
Faith did not react appreciate his words, “You don’t know shit.”  
  
“Excuse me?” already riled up, the Wesley was getting confrontational despite his normally more conservative nature.  
  
“You. Don’t. Know. Shit.” Faith repeated, enunciated every word with a pause.  
  
“Faith,” Clark tried to calm her down.  
  
She shot him a look, “No Clark, this fucker needs to get off his high horse if he wants to work with us. Probably hasn’t even staked a vamp before.”  
  
Wesley bristled at her insult, “I’ll have you know, I have personally staked two vampires under controlled conditions.”  
  
Clark fought desperately to keep the smile off his face as Faith began a mocking clap.  
  
“Congrats,” Faith replied condescendingly, “Red’s staked more vampire’s than you.”  
  
Wesley spluttered, “Wh-h-ho are you talking about?”  
  
“Red?” Faith gestured with her arms, “Tiny mousey thing? Was super quiet? Yeah, she’s staked more vamps than you, in as you would say the field. None of that ‘controlled conditions’ bull.” The Slayer spat onto his notebook, “You may know your books, but you don’t know Slayin’”  
  
She stormed out of the library, without a single look back.  
  
Completely shocked and flustered, Wesley sat there stunned, unable to process how terribly his first day was going.  
  
Clark offered him a comforting smile, “Mr. Wyndenham-Pryce, I’ll try to talk to her.”  
  
His words seemed to get a response. With a dramatic sigh the Watcher tried to clean off his writings. Refusing to meet Clark’s eyes Wesley replied, “I would much appreciate that Mr. Kent.”  
  
Clark offered the man a hand, “Look, I know it’s all to take in, but I really do think you could fit in with us.” The other man looked at his hand, cautiously, looking for the trap, “But in order to so, you’ll have to keep an open mind, otherwise you might lose her.”  
  
Sighing, Wesley conceded, “You may be right Mr. Kent. I’ve already managed to cock up my first debriefing.” He dejectedly put away his pad and grabbed Clark’s hand, “I would appreciate the help.”  
  
The teen smiled, “Call me Clark.”  
  
  
  
.  
  
  
 **Noise**  
  
Something was wrong.  
  
Clark knew it the instant Faith dashed into the motel room and ignored him. Making her way into the washroom, she turned on the sink before slamming the door shut behind her.  
  
"Faith?" Clark called out as he made his way to the bathroom door.  
  
She didn’t respond. Listening carefully, through the noisy rush of water, Clark could hear her scrubbing furiously at her hands. Giving her a minute or two to get herself together would probably be best he decided.  
  
Sitting down, Clark began to work on his chemistry homework once again. It really was boring, but it wasn't hard either and he had nothing better to do. Several problems later, Clark was puzzled to realize Faith was still washing her hands.  
  
Knocking softly on the bathroom door, Clark called out for her once again, "Faith?"  
  
Only the sound of rushing water answered him. Frowning, Clark tried to open the door only to find it locked.  
  
He was getting worried, "Faith?"  
  
Over the noise, he thought he heard her sob.  
  
Enough was enough. Clark applied an extra amount of force and broke the door handle. Opening the door, he was greeted with Faith's back as she stood over the sink, still furiously scrubbing her hands.  
  
"Get out," her voice was unusually quiet.   
  
"Faith what's wrong?" Clark asked quietly. It would have helped if the motel had a mirror, but apparently that was too much of a luxury.  
  
"Get out," her voice was louder this time, with a hint of menace.  
  
Clark refused to budge, "Not until you tell me what's going on." He kept his voice calm and reasonable.  
  
"GET OUT!" Faith screeched, whipping her face around.  
  
She scared Clark. Although her eyes were red and puffy, there were no signs of tears and despite the cracking of Faith's voice, there was no sign of any physical injury. Whatever it was had completely and utterly freaked her out. Clark had never seen Faith like this before, and it terrified him.  
  
But he wasn't going to let her run this time. This time, Clark would see her through it.  
  
He stared her down, trying to remain as calm as he could. Taking a deep breath, he challenged her, "No."  
  
He held her eyes for several long seconds before she snapped her head back to the sink.  
  
She went back to washing her hands. "Please," this time it was a whisper. A defeated, weak whisper, with a hint of pleading.  
  
Taking it as his queue, Clark walked up and gently pulled her back from the sink. He turned her around, but even then she refused to meet his eyes.   
  
This was killing him, "Faith please," he croaked. Clark silently cursed his inability to even beg without having his voice choke.  
  
She raised her gaze slightly; she stared at his chest instead of the floor. At least that was progress.  
  
"Faith..." Clark reached slowly, afraid to scare her, to cradle the bottom of her chin. She didn't fight him, which he took as an invitation to continue.  
  
"Faith, what's wrong?" Clark asked quietly, tilting her head until their eyes met. Tears were freely flowing now.  
  
"I can't Clark," she begged, but didn't pull away. She began to grow more hysteric, "I can't! I can't!"  
  
"Whatever it is Faith, we can deal with it," he replied softly, willing her to calm down.  
  
She suddenly reached behind his head and pulled him into kiss. It was a desperate kiss as she pressed furiously into him, refusing to let go. Confused, Clark let it continue until she stepped back, gasping for air.  
  
"I can't lose you Clark," she whispered quietly. She sounded so spent and defeated, Clark almost broke right there. But he had to be strong for her.  
  
"Faith, you won't lose me," he promised, desperate to know what was wrong.  
  
She silently begged at him when their eyes met. Unable to look away, Clark knew what she was about to say would be bad.  
  
"I killed a man."  
  
All he heard was the rush of water.  
  
  
.  
  
  
  
 **Salt**  
  
Clark could do salty. He loved salty foods. Savoury ones as well. He also greatly enjoyed sweet things to follow up a meal. His Ma baked a mean apple pie and it was always absolutely amazing. Although not a huge fan, Clark could also do sour things. But what he couldn't handle was bitter. Bitter things just never worked for him, coffee, tea, anything.  
  
And what he was about to do left a horribly bitter taste in his mouth.  
  
He knew of Angel's past and his complicated past with the rest of the Scoobies. Objectively he knew where everyone and everything stood, but Clark knew there were many varying levels of resentment within the group towards the souled vampire. Clark himself had no issue with the vampire, so it wasn't that that bothered him.  
  
It was his powerlessness. He'd promised himself to never let Faith down and to support her however he could and here he was, not even a full week later, at a loss, unable to help her. Although not usually a prideful person, it still hurt Clark to be unable to help Faith through this ordeal. He simply didn't have the experience; so he was about to ask the vampire for help.  
  
"Hey Angel," Clark greeted softly, interrupting the vampire's sketching.  
  
Looking up, the vampire gave him a soft grin, "Hey Clark," he responded softly. It seemed the vampire wasn't one who believed in varying the volume of his voice much.  
  
Clark swallowed painfully. He couldn't help Faith, but he hoped that maybe Angel could. If anyone knew about dealing with their darker self, it'd be the former Scourge of Europe.  
  
"I need your help," Clark replied, steeling his determination. He might as well get it over with, for Faith.  
  
Worriedly, the vampire stood up quickly, "What happened? Is Buffy ok? Is Faith?"  
  
Clark didn't really know how to answer. They were both ok, physically. From the little he'd talked with Buffy she was a little shook up over the incident, but dealing with it ok. But Faith, Faith was a wreck. She'd tried desperately to hide it, but Clark had persevered until she broke down and told him everything.   
  
At least I did something, Clark thought grimly.  
  
Settling on quickly answering the question, Clark replied, "There's been an accident."  
  
Quickly putting on his coat, the vampire reached for a heavy blanket. Before Clark could say anything, Angel had covered himself with the quilt and started making his way outside.  
  
"Wait!" Clark called out. Angel turned in response, the worry showing clearly on his face. If the teen were feeling better, the sight of the vampire hiding under a giant quilt would have been hilarious. As it was, Clark almost smiled at the sight.  
  
"What?" Angel asked, clearly ready to dash off to Buffy's side.  
  
"They're not in danger," Clark explained. Seeing Angel sag in relief, he added, "Not physically at least."  
  
The vampire straightened at that and gave him a sharp look, "What happened?" the question came out as a growl. His voice served as a better reminder of his vampirism than the quilt did.  
  
Meeting his eyes, Angel's expression finally softened. He must have seen something in Clark's eyes. Walking back to his chair, Angel threw the quilt onto the floor nearby. He turned and stared the teen down, "What happened Clark?"  
  
Feeling his emotions swell up to his throat, Clark choked the first time he tried to explain. Struggling for control, he took a deep breath. Faith needed help and if it didn't come from him, so be it.   
  
Swallowing the pill, Clark began his explanation.


	19. Fire / Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faith deals with the aftermath.

* * *

**Fire**  
  
Buffy and Faith patrolled in an awkward silence. The two hadn't really talked since the incident and neither knew what to do or say. While feeling guilty herself, Buffy felt as though something was missing from her fellow Slayer. The spark, the fiery passion that embodied Faith was sputtering or dead.  
  
Unable to take the silence any longer, the blonde asked, "How're you doing Faith?"  
  
"Just lookin' forward to some layin' when I get back," Faith replied with a smirk. She was obviously trying to avoid answering the question.  
  
"Oh," the blonde let out a disappointed sigh. She'd been hoping that the other teen would open up, "Are you sure there's nothing else?"  
  
"What else would there be B?" the brunette asked, trying to remain nonchalant. Buffy noticed that she was not so slyly avoiding any eye contact.  
  
The blonde tried to take it easy, "I was just thinking about what happened the other day..."  
  
With a shrug of her shoulders, the Faith kicked a stone into a nearby tree, "It's no big B. I'm fine. I got this."  
  
"Faith, you killed a man," Buffy never really was a patient person. She tried to glare brunette down, but Faith was not having any of it.  
  
"So what?" she demanded. With a wave her hand she ranted, "The way I see it, the Slayer gig has got to come with some perks. We get these awesome powers and fight things out of people's nightmares. If some stupid civvy gets caught up occasionally, so what? All the good we do cancels out any bad.”  
  
Completely horrified, Buffy listened to her sister Slayer talk as though they were above the law, above other human beings. It was an understandable and unfortunate accident, and although Buffy didn't think Faith should necessarily be punished, her attitude was both frightening and worrying.  
  
As the brunette finally slowed down, she turned away from Buffy. She looked up at the night sky and mumbled, somewhat quietly, "There's no blood on my hands."  
  
The statement gave Buffy hope. Well not the statement as much the way Faith said it; like she was trying to convince herself of that fact.   
  
Knowing better than to accuse Faith, Buffy asked, "Does Clark know what happened?"  
  
Still refusing to meet her eyes, Faith replied simply, "Yeah."  
  
"What does he think?" Buffy asked tentatively.  
  
Faith glared at the blonde, anger in her eyes. Thankfully the anger didn't seem directed at the other Slayer, "He thinks he knows what's best for me. Trying to get all into my head and shit. Even tried to get your ex to talk to me."  
  
Buffy knew Clark had been trying to help Faith, he'd asked her for help after all, but the mention of Angel was startling, "He what?"  
  
Faith snorted, "He got your vampire-ex to talk to me, about dealing with darkness and fighting your demons. Seems to think that monster would know better how to get into my head."  
  
Offended on Angel's behalf, Buffy vehemently shot back, "He's not some monster. That was Angelus; Angel would never hurt anyone."  
  
"That's not the way he sees it," Faith shot back, "He says he's got a lot of blood on his hands and that it's his duty to make up for it. Atone or some shit, responsibility for his actions."  
  
Buffy shook her head, refuting Angel's paraphrased words, "Yes Angel has made mistakes, but he's not guilty of being a monster or he shouldn't be. He didn't do it, Angelus did."  
  
Faith paused, looking at her own clean hands, "He might not have wanted to, but he remembers every moment of it. And it fucks him up."  
  
Sensing a shift of subject, Buffy decided to tactfully ignore it, "But he doesn't try to change the past or ignore it. He's accepted it and is moving on."  
  
The last statement got a laugh out of Faith, "Moving on? You mean brooding 24/7 is moving on?"  
  
Sharing her amusement, Buffy tried a peace offering, "I know he's struggling with it, but he is accepting his past. Trying to make amends you know? Do the right thing?"  
  
The brunette sighed softly looking at the ground, her fingers idly playing with her stake, "Why couldn't being a Slayer have been easy?"  
  
Buffy offered her a smile, "Cause we're too awesome for it to have been easy."  
  
Faith grinned back, "Damn right."  
  
Where there was a spark in her eye, hopefully a flame would follow.  
  
.  
  
 **Coffee**  
  
Giles took a sip of his coffee and grimaced; he really missed tea. But these bloody Americans wouldn't know good tea from steeped fecal matter and when in need for a caffeine fix, the librarian was forced to resort to coffee. Dreadful stuff really.   
  
Sighing, Giles took another sip of his coffee, internally wishing for a resupply of his tea reserves.  
  
Beside him, Wesley shuffled nervously with his notes. Although he had come off strong as a pompous arse, Giles had to concede that the young Watcher knew his materials well enough and that if you managed to get past his smug pride, he possessed a quick and amusing wit. But sometimes it was hard to look past that arrogant smile born out of inexperience. Wesley just made it so very hard to like him.  
  
But he was trying, that much was evident. The young Watcher, although prone to pointing out discrepancies between instruction manuals and actual practice, tried to adapt, he really did. He was eager to learn, listening to Xander's avid storytelling, offering to aid Willow in her slowly budding magical prowess, and putting up with both Slayer's highly unorthodox behaviours. Though the two still managed to send him storming out of the library every meeting, the time at which Wesley lasted was increasing.  
  
Giles was pleasantly surprised to note that the two Slayers seemed to irritate Wesley on principle and well, for their amusement, rather than from disliking him. They were no longer trying to alienate Wesley, but rather haze him for having such a rigid stick up his arse.  
  
Taking a deep sip from his coffee, the librarian managed to swallow without a grimace. He suspected that Clark had something to do with everyone's behaviour. The boy had a keen sense of perception when it came to one's feelings and was highly sensitive and empathetic to other's plights. It would likely to continue to be a great asset to their group, but in all likelihood a great burden on the young teen. He seemed the type to try to shoulder the burden of others, even when it was unnecessary. It was a good thing Faith would be there to stop him.  
  
Giles smiled at that thought. Faith provided a good counter-balance to Clark's personality and it seemed they were benefiting greatly from their relationship; though the potential fallout if something were to happen was something he wished not to consider.  
  
Still, despite their location on the Hellmouth, things were looking up. The cheerful thought was enough for the librarian to silently toast and finish off his drink in one go.  
  
Beside him, Wesley twittered, clearly impatient, "What do you suppose this is about?"  
  
Frowning, Giles replied, "I have absolutely no idea." Clark had informed him that both Buffy and Faith wished to discuss something with them. Giles had felt something off with Buffy the past two days, but Faith was harder to read. Remembering Clark's somber tone, Giles was suddenly quite worried.  
  
"Clark sounded quite serious didn't he?" Giles tried to pass off his worry with a nonchalant comment.  
  
Wesley frowned, "I supposed he did. You would know him better than I." After a beat, the young Watcher leaned closer to Giles, "What do you suppose is the nature of his relationship is with the Slayers?"  
  
Giles raised an eyebrow in amusement, "I assumed you would have deduced the answer by now."  
  
"Well, I am not one to gossip," the younger man began, clearly about to gossip, "But, would it be safe to assume Clark and Faith have had... relations?"  
  
Clicking his tongue with annoyance, Giles tried to remind himself that hitting the other man would not be setting a good example. "I do not see why it is any of our business."  
  
"But, does it not compromise the integrity of our Slayers?" Wesley asked curiously. He continued on quite enthusiastically, despite the seriousness of the discussion, "As Watchers isn't it prudent to be fully informed about our Slayers' actions?"  
  
Deciding on rubbing his nose bridge to show his irritation, Giles replied, "If I believed Clark was a negative influence on either Buffy of Faith, I would have expressed my opinion to them already. But seeing as how the young man has been nothing but a positive influence on the two, I see absolutely no reason in inquiring into any... relations that may or may not be occurring."  
  
Slightly offput, Wesley frowned, "But..."  
  
Giles sighed, "Would you appreciate the children inquiring as to your personal activities?" When the other man looked about to respond, the librarian continued, "Or lack thereof?"  
  
Spluttering for a second, Wesley conceded, "Your argument may have merit."  
  
With a smile Giles, turned when the library doors opened admitting Buffy and Faith. Behind them, Angel and Clark walked in what seemed a showing of support. Looking at all their faces, Giles prepared himself for the worse. Beside him, he felt, more of saw Wesley frown.  
  
Glancing down at his empty mug, Giles had a bad feeling he should have had an Irish coffee.


	20. Drive / Hungry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Others deal with the aftermath.

* * *

**Drive**  
  
Wesley had always been a driven individual.  
  
Top of his class, he was an expert in ancient languages and cultures. Unfortunately certain aspects of his personality, possibly his desire for results, sometimes alienated him from others. But he'd always had a sense of direction, knowing what he wanted to do, what he needed to do—but not now.  
  
His Slayer had committed murder. In the recorded history of all Slayers, only a few Slayers had broken the tenant and killed a human being. There was a clear line to be drawn between fighting the supernatural and dealing with human crime. The Slayer was to leave criminals of a human nature to the proper authorities. Although the line blurred a little when dealing with magic users, this case was clear. Faith had murdered an innocent bystander.  
  
But it was an accident. Thankfully, Giles had taken lead in the discussion, getting the story from both Slayers.  
  
"... and then I turned, thinking he was a vamp," Faith concluded. She looked so ashamed at what she'd done, unable to meet their eyes. Clark walked up and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Wesley shifted uneasily at that, conflicting emotions running through him. He was glad that Faith was coming forward and confessing to her crimes, but the Council's policy was clear. He wasn't sure if Faith deserved the comfort.  
  
"I tried to help him," Buffy took up the story now, her demeanour completely at odds with her normal cheery self, "But he pulled the stake out, and then there was too much blood."  
  
Giles nodded understandingly and Angel stood their unmoving, a completely solemn statue. It still unnerved Wesley to be in the presence of The Scourge of Europe, despite the alleged changing of his ways; the Watcher would only admit it to himself, but being in Angel's presence also gave him a thrill. Danger-induced, blood pounding, adrenaline rushes weren't the same in Council controlled environments.  
  
"Well, I'm glad you've come out and talked to us about this matter," Giles began and Wesley waited for the bomb to drop. It never came. "We will need to discuss this matter more thoroughly later, but you all seemed exhausted. Perhaps a short break before we continue discussing our next move?"  
  
Surprised, Wesley only managed to gape at Giles. Clark on the other hand smiled at the older Watcher with a great deal of relief, "So you won't be contacting the Council?" He was aware of at least some of the Council's policies then.  
  
"No," Giles' voice was firm, "I do not believe that will be necessary at this juncture." He shot Faith a small smile, "It was a terrible and unfortunate accident, but an accident nonetheless. Faith has made great strides these past few months. It would be a shame to endanger it all over this."  
  
Wesley, coughed into his hand, about to object. The Wynden-Pryce name was a traditional Council family and he would not be the first in their long line to fail in his duty. But then his Slayer caught his attention.  
  
"Thank you," she managed to croak, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. The strong self-assured woman Wesley had saw moments ago, was completely gone. Left before him was a broken young woman. Overwhelmed by her emotions, Wesley watched as Faith broke down and began sobbing hysterically into Clark's arms.  
  
The sympathetic looks that Angel and Buffy shared were not helping to strengthen his resolve. Beside him, Giles maintained a stern, but surprisingly understanding look, which continued to undermine the Council's reports on the Watcher’s incompetence. Completely out of his depth, Wesley elected to remain silent, schooling his features.  
  
When Faith finally managed to regain her composure, she stood up straight, away from Clark. The only hints at how upset she'd been were the redness of her eyes and the dampness of Clark's shirt.  
  
"I'm good now G-man," the brunette whispered softly, "We can keep going."  
  
"Are you sure?" the man asked softly, clearly concerned for her wellbeing.  
  
Surprising himself, Wesley heard himself offer, "Are you sure you don't need another few minutes or so?"   
  
Rewarding him with a small smile, Faith shook her head, "Naw. We gotta move on strong right?" At this point she shot Angel a look. Not completely understanding, Wesley was able to grasp the connection between them from her eyes. Although completely untraditional, he was beginning to understand the benefits of a Slayer’s extrapersonal connections.  
  
"Quite right," Giles continued, it seemed that he wasn't going to coddle or comfort Faith unnecessarily. Meeting his eyes, Wesley noticed the other Watcher motioning subtly between him and Faith. The younger man gave a small nod; he understood Giles’ meaning and would support her as best as he could.  
  
The librarian looked straight at Buffy before looking back at Faith, "We need discover why the Assistant Mayor was down at the docks to begin with. Clark has already brought to our attention several troubling facts regarding our local government."  
  
"We're on it Giles," Buffy replied, her bubbly cheer returning. Wesley was beginning to think it was facade she used to annoy people. Mostly him and sometimes Giles.  
  
"Do be careful," the librarian cautioned as Angel and the blonde headed out of the library.   
  
As Clark and Faith made their way to the door, Wesley called out, "Faith, a moment of your time please?"  
  
Reluctantly, Faith waved Clark out the door and turned to face both Watchers, somewhat wary. Giles was giving him a questioning look.  
  
Ignoring his fellow watcher, Wesley stood up and walked over to Faith. He stood in front of her somewhat awkwardly, wrestling with what he was about to say, "I know we haven't always gotten along, I mean to say, we didn't start on the right foot..." meeting her in the eyes, Wesley was comforted to see she was afraid of what he might say. It meant that she cared what he thought, "But my job is to support you, no matter what..."   
  
Running a hand through his hair, Wesley tried to continue, but couldn't find the words.  
  
With a small smile, Faith laughed at him, "Got it. You're my Watcher."  
  
Elated at her quick understanding, Wesley continued eagerly, "And you're my Slayer. We're going to make sure you go down as the most... kick-ass one in books."  
  
"Wicked," the brunette offered him a smirk as she began exiting the library.  
  
Turning back, Wesley was pleasantly surprised to see an approving look on Giles' face; although he bristled on the inside that he should need approval from his peer. Still, it was nice to have rediscovered a direction to focus all of his drive. It may have been completely unorthodox and against tradition, but for the first time since coming to Sunnydale, things were beginning to feel right.  
  
"Hey Wes?" his Slayer was calling to him.   
  
With a grin on his face, Wesley turned, "Yes?"  
  
"You should mess your hair up more. If you weren't so uptight all the time, you'd actually be kinda hot. Girls would be jumping your bones all the time."  
  
Spluttering, Wesley couldn't think of a reply before the library doors closed.   
  
Yes, thing were going to be alright, if Faith didn’t drive him insane first.  
  
.  
  
  
 **Hungry**  
  
Clark waited anxiously for Willow after school. With Faith and Buffy's recent confirmation of the mayor's nefarious associates, he'd need her help tracking down more detailed information electronically. He was well versed in the more traditional forms of research, but the internet and other electronic phenomenon were new to him.  
  
"Willow?" he spotted her exiting the building.  
  
She probably hadn’t heard and so had kept walking. Taking off at a light jog, Clark quickly caught up with his cousin.  
  
"Willow?" he called out to her. She kept on walking. Well then, she probably had heard him after all.  
  
Frowning, Clark blocked her path, "Willow? What's going on?"  
  
Crossing her arms, the redhead frowned at him, "Why don't you tell me?"  
  
Puzzled, he replied, "I need your help. Faith and Buffy found out something about the mayor yesterday..."  
  
"Oh?" she replied, somewhat disbelieving. Scowling she asked, "Is that all you have to say? You need my help?"  
  
Knowing he was missing something, Clark tried to mollify her, "I'm sorry?" he offered.  
  
"You bet you are buster," she scowled, pointing an accusatory finger at him. She then put her hands on her hips, "You don't tell me that the skanky hoe-bag is a murderess, let Buffy drown in her guilt about it, and make me think you all just hate me!"  
  
At first surprised at her anger, Clark didn't process everything she said, "I'm so sorry Willow, I know I should have—" and then his brain processed it all. "I'm sorry, but did you just insult Faith?"  
  
Crossing her arms, she refused to budge, "You heard me. Skanky hoe-bag murderess."  
  
His mood quickly darkening, Clark replied, "I don't appreciate you talking about Faith that way."  
  
Willow began, "Clark, just because she gives amazing smoochies-"   
  
He cut her off, "What we have is more than just physical, Willow. Even more importantly, is that Faith isn't a murderer, skank, or a hoe-bag."  
  
The redhead jutted out her chin, "Buffy told me about what she did."  
  
Trying to fight off his anger, Clark reminded himself they were family. Gritting his teeth he asked, "And did she tell you what happened after? And how we sorted it out with Giles and Wesley?"  
  
Looking decidedly less sure, Willow offered, "I think so?"  
  
Taking a deep breath, Clark tried to release his anger along with his breath as he breathed out. It took several breaths before he was calm enough to talk regularly. "Willow, what's important is that Faith never meant to do anything of the sort and she regrets it even now. We've sorted out with everyone. Besides, it turns out that the assistant mayor being down at the docks isn’t likely a coincidence."  
  
"So, you're absolutely sure, that Faith isn't turning to the dark side?" she asked tentatively, struggling with her own prejudices.   
  
Sighing, Clark responded, "Definitely no dark side for Faith."  
  
"Alright buster, but I'm getting the full story from Buffy later," Willow warned, still not completely willing to believe Clark.  
  
Ruffling his hair, he responded, "Fine. Whatever. I just need your help, something is going on with the mayor."  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Fine."  
  
.  
.  
.  
  
The next morning, Clark answered the door, only to find Willow carrying a tin full of cookies. She seemed thoroughly ashamed and was looking very morose.  
  
She offered him a timid smile, "I baked 'I'm sorry cookies'... hungry?"


	21. Rocket / Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble in paradise.

* * *

**Rocket**  
  
Giles didn’t want to admit it, but Wesley was starting to grow on him. Admittedly it was like mildew creeping up the corner of the wall, but the positive feelings were developing.  
  
Wesley was beginning to loosen up and was poking fun at his employers' expense once he realized that Giles wouldn’t criticize him for it. Although the younger man was a Watcher to the core, his wit and humour tended to be darker than one would expect from the proper gentleman.  
  
“What do you think of outer space?” Giles asked, deciding to test the waters on Clark’s behalf. Wesley was not aware of the teen’s extraterrestrial nature, but if he were to stay with them longer, as Giles suspected he would, the younger Watcher would eventually figure something was different about Clark. He was inexperienced, not stupid.  
  
Frowning, Wesley replied, “Although I do prefer to keep up to date with modern developments, I would have to reluctantly admit that I know very little about rockets, spaceships and the like.”   
  
Surprised at his show of humility, Giles smiled softly, “I am not that knowledgeable in that regard either. I find technology for the most part distracting and unnecessarily complex.”  
  
Trying to hide his smile, the younger Watcher coughed into his hand, “Uh, yes I have noticed your aversion to anything electronic in origin.”  
  
“Quite right. I dread the day when people no longer appreciate the value of a good book,” Giles raised his cup of tea to his lips as his eyes crinkled in amusement.   
  
“The horror!” Wesley exclaimed mockingly, then he frowned, “I am worried as to the state of the current young generation…”  
  
Reminded of Clark, Giles placed his cup back on its saucer, “Actually, I was inquiring earlier about your views on extraterrestrial life.”  
  
“Extraterrestrial life you say?” Wesley tapped his chin in thought, “Well, we have a few documented species of demons which are believed to be extraterrestrial in nature… But ultimately records are often not detailed enough for us to differentiate between extraterrestrial and extradimensional beings.”  
  
Cocking an eyebrow at a relatively textbook answer, Giles offered him a dry smile, “I was perhaps wondering as to your personal opinion on the matter.”  
  
“Well yes, I do believe in the possibility of extraterrestrial life,” the younger man began after a pause, “Considering how the Earth is constantly receiving visitors from an infinite number of demon dimensions, in the infinite confines of our universe, how are we to say life cannot exist elsewhere? Furthermore, what about the presence of demonic species on another hellmouth outside our galaxy altogether?”  
  
Startled, Giles hummed thoughtfully, “Truth be told, I never considered the possibility of demons and Hellmouths on other planets.”  
  
Nodding enthusiastically, Wesley began, “Actually not many of our cohorts do. Imagine what we could learn by studying alien species in different environments! But our peers are far too focused on the past and are not adapting to new knowledge on the ways in which our universe works. My thesis work actually attempted at scientifically quantifying—“  
  
Giles coughed politely into his hand, trying to prevent his colleague’s undoubtedly long explanation, “Did I possibly hear you speak negatively of our peers?”  
  
Spluttering, Wesley looked back down to his notes, scribbling furiously, “No, one of my position would not dare criticize my more experienced contemporaries,” Giles noticed a slight smile on Wesley’s lips. Good, he was learning.  
  
“Giles! Wesley! We need to go to the police station now!” Clark burst into the library, clearly distraught.  
  
Taking in the boy, Giles was once again reminded how much the teen cared. Not many felt as strongly as he did and simply by looking at him, Giles felt his own blood pressure rising. Something was indeed wrong for him to be so upset… or the issue involved Faith.  
  
Taking immediate action, Giles stood up, “What’s the matter?”  
  
Beside him, Wesley was putting away his materials, while listening intently to their conversation. He clearly didn’t approve of his Slayer’s relationship with Clark, it was completely against tradition after all, but at the same time, he had no reason to put distance between the boy and Faith. With an internal sigh, Giles admitted he may have been too hopeful that Wesley would be accepting of Clark’s extraterrestrial status.  
  
“It’s Faith,” Clark gasped out, leaning onto a nearby table.  
  
Frowning, Giles found himself once again worrying. As extraordinary as Clark was, emotional shock was clearly affecting his breathing, “Clark what happened?”  
  
“They arrested her,” he explained, taking in another strained breath before continuing, “Her place was a mess. They were going through everything. They said she was already down at the station when I got to her place.”  
  
“And you ran all the way here?” Wesley asked, clearly impressed. Faith’s dilapidated motel was across town. It’d be a fair distance to run.  
  
Nodding, Clark turned back to Giles, “She’s in jail Giles! You know how well Faith and authority go together.”  
  
Wearing a grim look, the librarian nodded his understanding, “If she wasn’t in trouble already, let’s hope she hasn’t made more.” Putting on his coat, he made to grab his car keys.  
  
Before he could reach them however, Wesley intercepted him. Shooting him a tentatively look, the younger Watcher explained, “You have a tendency to drive… rather slowly. Perhaps someone else should drive.”  
  
Reluctantly accepting the statement as truth, Giles nodded. There were more important things to worry about than who was driving: Faith for example.  
  
As they left the library, Giles was pleasantly surprised when the Wesley turned back to Clark, "Are you coming?”  
  
The drive to the police station was silent and strained. Giles found himself unwillingly enjoying the terseness between Wesley and Clark. As situations in Sunnydale go, it could be worse. And as far as Wesley’s attitude on Clark went…  
  
At least the young Watcher hadn’t expressed the desire to dissect aliens.  
  
  
.  
  
  
 **Brother**  
  
“Faith are you ok?” Clark demanded worriedly. By the time they got to the station, she’d already been released, but despite their best efforts they’d been unable to locate her.  
  
Standing against an alley wall, she took a long drag of a cigarette. She normally avoided those, because she knew Clark’s opinion on smoking. “What’s got you all twisted up?” she asked nonchalantly. “You look like you’re gonna blow any second now.”  
  
“What’s got me all twisted up?” Clark asked surprised, “You were taken the police station yesterday! I heard you’d been arrested.”  
  
Faith shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, “It was no big. Nothin’ happened. They brought me in, we talked, they let me go.” Avoiding Clark’s eyes she stated, “No big deal.”  
  
“That’s all that happened?” demanded Clark, he needed answers and Faith was sharing even less than normal.  
  
Taking another drag, Faith’s voice was level, “Yeah, nothing happened.”  
  
“You’re lying,” Clark had been around her enough to know when she was.  
  
Raising an eyebrow, she lightly countered, “Oh? And the naïve boyscout would know that how?”  
  
Normally when she used nicknames for him they were terms of endearment. This time, she was being condescending and it hurt.  
  
“Faith, I don’t know why you’re acting like this, but you don’t need to pretend on my account,” Clark knew she was trying to put distance between them. He’d have to fight her on it, again. “I’m just worried about you.”  
  
Watching her face finally soften, Clark knew he’d managed to reach her. But she suddenly turned away, her eyes starting to water.  
  
“Faith?” Clark asked worriedly. He knew something had happened last night.  
  
“When I was in holding, I had a lot of time to think,” Faith began, her voice wavering slightly. She turned back to face him.   
  
Not expecting that reply, Clark was puzzled, “Thinking about what?”  
  
“Thinking about us,” Faith replied, her voice soft.  
  
A feeling of unease began to smother his sense of worry. “What about?” Clark asked quietly.  
  
“Look, I know how you feel about me…” she began, but stopped, clearly trying to put together the words.  
  
“Faith, I love you,” Clark interjected. Although his voice was quiet, the words had been spoken with conviction.  
  
“I know that,” she replied, her gaze unwavering. Taking a deep breath she stared and Clark watched her eyes glimmer as the tears formed, “I love you too…”  
  
Clark didn’t see the issue.  
  
“… like a brother.”  
  
Clark’s mind froze. _I’m sorry but what?_   
  
“Bullshit,” Clark swore, upset that she’d even joke about it, “You don’t do what we do with a brother.”  
  
She never looked away during his accusation, “I’m sorry Clark,” her voice broke and she raised a slow hand to his face, “But I tried to tell myself, that you’re such a good guy. And it was about time I deserved something good in my life, but… I don’t love you. Not like that.”  
  
“Bull,” Clark’s mind still wasn’t really working and if Faith kept on insisting on this absurdity he was going to blow.  
  
“I…” Faith looked down ashamedly. Clark felt the despair set in. If what she was about to say was worse than what she’d already said, he wouldn’t be able to handle it.  
  
“… met someone, yesterday,” she explained softly. Her words were so soft, Clark had to strain to hear.  
  
Horrified, Clark tried to make sense of what she’s saying, “You’re lying.” He tried again.  
  
“You know I’m not. You’re the one with the super-nose and all.”  
  
Hesitantly, he took in and analyzed her scent. There was the leather, smoke, and musk which were clearly Faith. But the smell of fabric softener, detergent, and other domestic products were not. And they were all over her.  
  
Turning around, Clark’s ears pounded in time with his heart. He needed to go now.  
  
“Clark…” his name was spoken so softly and it sounded so broken, he almost turned around.  
  
Instead he just walked away.


	22. Space / Fatigue / ???

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where the problems began and where they will lead.

* * *

**Space**  
  
Her place at the motel could fit in the just the bedroom of the apartment.  
  
“Are you serious about this place?” she asked, clearly disbelieving, “Thanks for the help with the cops and all… but why am I here?”  
  
Mayor Wilkins gave her a jovial smile, “No slayer should be living in that fleabag motel. That place has a very unsavoury reputation. There are immoral liaisons going on there.”  
  
Unable to hide her smirk, Faith grinned at him, “Plus all the screwing.” Outwardly she was excited, inwardly however, she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.  
  
“You should keep your old place, in case you need to see your friends there,” Wilkins began, only to stop when Faith began jumping on the bed, “Shoes! Shoes!”  
  
Jumping off the bed, she walked right up into his personal space, “What’s your angle?”  
  
Completely unperturbed, Mayor Wilkins kept on smiling, but his tone was more serious, “I need your help, the help of the Slayer.” Before Faith could respond, he raised a hand, “I know what you’re thinking, but I assure you that incident with the police is dealt with, gone. I would never hold that over your head; it’s morally reprehensible.”  
  
“So what, you give me these digs and I rock your jollies?” Faith demanded, crossing her arms.  
  
Frowning, the mayor responded, “No, no. You’ve got this all wrong. No, this place is yours, Edna would never have forgiven me if I allowed you to stay at that motel once I knew what was happening.”  
  
“Who’s Edna?” the brunette asked, surprised. For someone who associated with vampires, the mayor was nothing like what she was expecting.  
  
Looking somewhat sad, he responded, “She was my wife, before she passed. Loved her dearly.”  
  
Faith was uncomfortable; the mayor didn’t fit properly into any one category, “Sorry…”  
  
The mayor gave her a dismissive wave, “Nothing to apologize for, what’s past is past. Instead we should get back to my plans involving you.”  
  
Suddenly alert, Faith dropped into a fighter’s stance, waiting for an attack to come. It never did.  
  
Giving her an approving nod, Wilkins smiled, “As a slayer you should always be prepared.”  
  
Frowning, Faith retorted, “There’s more than one slayer right now.”  
  
Mayor Wilkins’ good mood soured quickly, “Don’t I know it. The other slayer, keeps on running around causing chaos all over town. For goodness sake’s she took a rocket launcher to the mall!”  
  
“And?” the brunette grinned.  
  
“Do you know how long I’ve been mayor?” Wilkins asked, somewhat rhetorically. Faith decided not to mention Clark suspected almost one hundred years. “I care a lot about the goings on in this town and the people in it.”  
  
She couldn’t resist pointing out problems in his logic though, “And working with fucking vamps is good for the population?”  
  
“Language young lady,” Wilkins chided, before addressing her concerns, “And yes, working with vampires is for the greater good.”  
  
Faith couldn’t help but snort in disbelief.  
  
Again, she found herself on the receiving end of a disapproving frown. It left her feeling odd, “That behavior is very unbecoming of you Faith. I expect better.” When she didn’t respond, he continued, “And you are aware Sunnydale is on the Hellmouth?”  
  
She nodded mutely.  
  
“Well then, you should also be aware that Sunnydale represents a homing beacon for all sorts of assorted nastiness, which left unchecked could prove devastating for the world, never mind Sunnydale,” Wilkins’ eyes were passionate as he explained his process, “By working with certain… less than savoury elements, I’ve established an equilibrium which benefits everyone.”  
  
Even as he scowled, the mayor managed to maintain a somewhat upbeat attitude, “But that blondey’s managed to ruined years of hard work. Destroying public property, causing general mayhem and worst of all disturbing the peace.”  
  
“She’s saving lives,” Faith retorted.  
  
“She’s saving the scum of Sunnydale,” the mayor replied flatly, “Are you aware that since her arrival, crime rates have risen over 23%? Once upon a time, the denizens of the night fed on people who were better off dead. But now, the Slayer is forcing them to hunt more creatively. Once upon a time it was stupid pimps, drug dealers, and drunk deadbeats but now it’s the mothers, fathers, and children.”  
  
Images from Faith’s past flashed in her mind for a second, none of them pleasant. Carefully, she found herself admitting, “Maybe some people are shit, what’s that got to do with me?”  
  
“You need help Faith,” the mayor replied. He was neither comforting nor sympathetic, merely stating a fact, “I need help. I was hoping we could come to an arrangement.”  
  
“I’ve always wanted a sugar daddy,” she shot back, crossing her arms.  
  
The mayor adopted a stern tone, “Young lady there will be none of that talk while we work together you understand? I am here, offering help because it’s the right thing to do. Now if you want to help in return, we can talk in further detail once you’re ready. It’s just a few simply jobs. Otherwise I can just walk right out this door now. No strings attached,” The man turned sharply and began making his way to the door, when Faith called out to him.  
  
“Wait!”  
  
Turning back, Wilkins was wearing his trademark smile. First step complete: with many more to follow.  
  
  
.  
  
  
**Fatigue**  
  
He was just so tired. It hurt too much to care and it was so much easier to just go through the motions. He knew the others were worried, Willow especially, but Clark really didn’t want to feel anymore.  
  
It barely registered when he knocked Vamp Willow unconscious the first time he saw her. He didn’t really think when he walked into the library and threw the vampire at the Giles’ feet.  
  
“Deal with it,” was all Clark said before walking out.  
  
When the Scoobies discussed Mayor Wilkins and Ascension, Clark found himself apathetic and left the library early. Eventually he stopped attending their meetings altogether. He really didn’t have that much to offer. They were probably better off without him as he was proving to be a distraction to them.  
  
The Scoobies gave him pitying looks whenever their paths crossed, but he was never willing to speak to them. It clearly caused them some distress, but Clark wasn't ready or able to talk with them. At some point something changed and their looks became more pained than before. Willow almost called out to him shortly after the change, but Clark heard Xander talk her out of it.  
  
“Leave it. He’s better off not knowing.”  
  
Clark agreed.  
  
It took a few weeks before something finally got through to him. Surprisingly enough, it had been Buffy who finally got through to him. He picked her voice out of the hustle and bustle of the school talking to Jonathan.  
  
“My life happens very occasionally to suck beyond the telling of it. More than I can stand sometimes.”  
  
Something about her words resonated with Clark and he started paying attention to her conversation. It was more than just the words themselves, but about the tone she used. There was a pain she drew from that he found himself connecting with it. It somehow helped knowing he wasn't alone, even if their pain was different.  
  
Clark startled when he realized that Buffy was trying to talk a shooter down. His immediate thoughts jumped to those nearby. _Willow! Xander! Everyone!_ Worrying for the first time in weeks, Clark sped to the bottom of the bell tower. He prepared for action only to relax as Buffy and Jonathan made their way down. It took them a few minutes to finally reach the bottom of the tower.  
  
Jonathan looked surprise to see him, but Buffy didn't. She did however, give him an analyzing gaze. She seemed satisfied with what she saw and turned back to look at the boy at her side.  
  
Quietly Clark asked them both, “Is everything ok?”  
  
Jonathan gave Buffy a look and she smiled softly at Clark, “It will be.”  
  
Meeting her eyes for a moment, Clark answered her silent question, “Yeah, it will be.”  
  
.  
  
  
  
Buffy stormed into the library and angrily pushed Wesley to the ground.  
  
“Buffy!” Wesley squawked from the ground, “Control yourself!”  
  
“He deserves to know,” the blonde ground out. She stood over him, seething in anger.  
  
“What is going on out—!” Giles demanded walking out of his office before exclaiming, “Good lord! Buffy what exactly is going on here?”  
  
“I thought you were both done being asshats,” the slayer punctuated her rant with some vague arm motions, “And I don’t know, maybe act like regular human beings for once?”  
  
Giles took off his glasses and cleaned them, “I understand we’ve done something to upset you, but if you could just explain—“  
  
“This is about Clark.”  
  
“What about him?” Wesley asked as he slowly got up. He promptly leapt to defend himself, “I think I handled to revelation of his origins quite well thank you. I kept it from my report to the council after all.”  
  
“Blah, blah, blah, so you’re not a complete asshat then,” Buffy retorted, “Just mostly one.”  
  
“Buffy,” Giles’ tone was firm as he replaced his glasses.  
  
“Clark needs to know about Faith,” Buffy replied stubbornly.  
  
Giles and Wesley gave each other a quick glance before returning their attention to the slayer. Wesley looked like he’d eaten a bug while Giles slowly rubbed his forehead.  
  
“The Mayor, the books, the attempt on Angel, all of it. He needs to know,” the slayer stated.  
  
The elder watcher began, “Now is not the—“  
  
“I know what you’re going to say and you can stuff it,” the blonde cut him off before explaining, “I’m remembering stuff from the whole ‘psychic Buffy’ thing.”  
  
“Well, then you must understand—“ Wesley attempted to start.  
  
“No. Clark is not just some weapon you can prep and fire at the Mayor,” Buffy cut him off. After taking several deep breaths she whispered, “He loves her.”  
  
Sharing a meaningful look with Wesley, Giles replied softly, “We know.”  
  
“And have you ever thought about how this whole situation could, I don’t know… scar him for life?” the blonde cried incredulously.  
  
“Have a seat Buffy,” Giles pulled out a chair at a table before taking a seat himself.  
  
The blonde opened her mouth to refuse, but took a look at her watcher’s face. He was calm, but obviously distressed and trying his best to hide it. Turning to Wesley she could see even stick-up-his-bum was looking sympathetic. Slowly taking a seat at the table, Buffy dropped her head to the table.  
  
This conversation was going to be long and full of suckage.  
  
**Scar**


	23. Preach / Dying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has reasons to be sorry.

* * *

**Preach**  
  
It had taken hours of conversation and more than a little yelling before Clark finally let Giles and Wesley talk him out of finding Faith. While he was glad it seemed like that she hadn’t actually hooked up with someone else, the Mayor was probably far worse. His holdings could easily be magically protected and they had no idea what he was truly capable of. He didn’t want to, but keeping his distance and taking a hands-off approach had probably been for the best. Until now.  
  
Hearing about it was one thing, seeing it was another. Clark struggled with what his eyes were telling him.  
  
Mayor Wilkins stood on one side of the cafeteria with Faith holding Willow at knife point. On the opposite side of the room, Buffy stood with the rest of her group. Clark felt his heart clench as he stared at the knife. He spoke directly at Faith.  
  
“You don’t want to do this Faith.”  
  
For a moment, Clark saw something flicker across her face before she gripped Willow closer.   
  
“I’m sorry son, but that’s just not the way things are going to be,” Wilkins said joyfully.  
  
Giving a brief glare towards the Mayor, Clark brought his attention back to Faith, “I know you Faith and this isn’t you. You’re a good person.”  
  
Xander couldn’t help but comment, “Because holding a knife to my bestest bud is a sign of goodness.”  
  
Clark felt the tension ratchet up another level, but his eyes stayed glued to Faith.  
  
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do here son,” Wilkins offered, “But, unfortunately we’re past the negotiating stage. I want my box.”  
  
Buffy stepped forward calmly, “Let her go.”  
  
Faith made eye contact with the blonde, but only tightened her grip before looking back to the Mayor.  
  
“Faith please,” Clark begged.   
  
Wilkins opined, “If you don't mind a bit of fatherly advice, I, well gosh I don't see much of a future for you two. I don't sense a lasting relationship, and not just because I plan to kill you. Things are just too good and evil for you folks.”  
  
“His relationship with Faith isn’t why we’re here,” Buffy cut in seriously, “We have your box. Give us Willow.”  
  
The subtle tensing of the Scoobies caused Faith to readjust her knife against Willow’s neck.   
  
Oz took notice and spoke up, “Guys chill.”  
  
Wilkins shrugged his shoulders and looked back at Clark, “Maybe I’m wrong. Who knows? If you work for me, I’m sure you and Faith could work something out. You’re a handsome lad and all. She’s also attached to you for some reason. I can tell.”  
  
Angry, Clark took a step forward only for the Mayor to waggle his finger at him.  
  
“I wouldn’t do that son.”   
  
To punctuate his sentence, Faith lifted Willow by her shirt, the knife firmly pressed against the redhead’s throat. The brunette slayer kept her eyes on the rest of the meeting and refused to meet Clark’s eyes.  
  
About to open his mouth, he was cut off by the Mayor, “Unless you’re offering to work with us Clark, we ain’t buying what you’re selling.”  
  
Looking at Faith one last time, Clark stepped back and deferred the conversation back to Buffy. She gave him a small look of sympathy before steeling her own gaze. Mayor Wilkins nodded in acknowledgement to Buffy.  
  
“Make the trade.”  
  
Angel slowly stepped forward with the Box of Gavrok, matching pace with Faith and Willow. Very slowly, Willow was passed to Buffy as Faith received the box from Angel. Neither party looked away as they backed up to their respective sides of the room. As soon as Willow was safely among the Scoobies, Clark made his move. He was done doing nothing.  
  
Clark sped Willow out of the room and left her in the library. In the time it took him to return, everyone was still standing in the same places. He quickly took in everyone’s shocked reactions and sped over to Faith and grabbed both her wrists, forcing her arms up. The Box of Gavrok and her knife clattered to the floor.  
  
“Faith stop this,” Clark demanded.  
  
“Oh dear. We can’t have this, now can we?” the Mayor commented with a frown.   
  
Both Giles and Wesley adopted defensive stances while motioning Xander and Oz behind them. Neither teen moved, keeping their eyes on Clark and Faith. Angel and Buffy walked towards the box on the floor.  
  
“I should mention that I know where she lives,” the Mayor said, “Oh gosh, that sounded oddly menacing didn’t it? Well, at least it gets the message across.”  
  
Buffy paused, the indecision clear on her face. Angel paused as well, ready to follow Buffy’s lead. Shaking her head slowly, she motioned the vampire back to their side of the room. The Mayor walked up and gently picked up the box and knife. He gave the box a quick onceover.   
  
“Not even a scratch. Gotta appreciate the good craftsmanship. Now if you could deal with boy wonder Faith, we’ll be on our way.”  
  
Throughout the whole exchange neither Faith nor Clark had looked away from each other. Despite his anger, Clark found himself begging one last time.  
  
“Faith, please. This is wrong.”   
  
Breaking eye contact, Faith ducked her head down and let her hair cover her face. For a moment Clark thought he’d gotten through to her. Her forehead connecting with his nose quickly dispelled that notion. Slightly dazed and completely surprised, Clark let go of Faith.  
  
She took the opportunity to jump back and deliver a solid kick to Clark’s sternum sending him backwards into a nearby table. The table and its chairs broke on impact.  
  
“Sorry boytoy, but that’s just the way things gotta be.”  
  
The Mayor offered Faith back her knife, “You dropped this in that little tussle of yours.”  
  
“Thanks,” Faith replied. The pair walked casually towards the exit as though everything had been settled.  
  
The Scoobies moved to check on Clark, but he quickly stood up, his eyes glowing red.   
  
He growled out, “Wilkins,” before dashing to grab the Mayor.   
  
Feeling the wind on the back of her neck, Faith instinctively stabbed behind her with her knife. Clark stumbled backwards and unwillingly let go of the mayor’s collar.  
  
Adjusting the collar of his shirt, the Mayor turned and said happily, “Good to see my precautions paid off.”  
  
Horrified, everyone else in the room watched Clark as he slowly sank to his knees. He brought his hands to his gut only to take them away. Clark looked completely bewildered by the sight of his own blood before falling to the floor. His abrupt collapse sent the room into shock.   
  
Faith took an unconscious step forward as the Mayor’s eyes narrowed recognizing the importance of the moment.  
  
“I—I—I,” she stammered staring at Clark’s prone form. She looked up around the room and met everyone’s horrified eyes before finally settling on Buffy. The blonde quickly regained her composure and her face settled into a determined mask. Looking away, Faith turned back to the Mayor and gave him a small nod.  
  
Wilkins couldn’t help but call out as they walked out the doors, “I don’t know what exactly boy wonder is. But I sure know how to give magic a pretty strong kick. Enjoy what’s left of your school year.”  
  
As the Scoobies flocked around the collapsed Clark, Faith whispered almost inaudibly, “I’m sorry.”  
  
.  
  
  
 **Dying**  
  
"So you're now officially part of the 'I died' club," joked Xander.  
  
Oz raised an eyebrow and made a gesture towards Willow. She was still distraught over recent events.  
  
Xander winced, "Sorry Wills."  
  
She tried to smile, "Don't worry about it Xander."  
  
Clark watched their byplay somewhat amused despite himself. He took a moment before he addressed Xander's comment.  
  
"I didn't realize it was a club," Clark said.  
  
"Sure it is," Xander ticked off fingers as he listed names, "Deadboy, Buffy, and now you. That's three whole people. Well, people-ish. Not sure Deadboy counts, but hey, we used to have only two and a half people in the We-hate-Cordelia club."  
  
"Half?" Clark asked puzzled.  
  
"Yeah Jesse kind of fell for her near the end," Xander's enthusiasm turned to melancholy, "We had some good times."  
  
"And then you fell for Cordy too," pointed out Willow.  
  
Shaking his head, Xander commented sadly, "Oh how the mighty have fallen."  
  
Clark and Oz withheld their laughter as Cordelia walked up behind Xander. Willow's 'eep!' was not nearly enough warning for him to dodge the blow to the back of his head.  
  
"Ow."  
  
"That was a mistake Harris," said Cordelia.  
  
Xander raised his hand, "In my defense I didn't know you were there."  
  
Clark, Oz, and Willow all shared a knowing look as Xander took a second wallop to the head.  
  
Cordelia promptly pulled out a chair and sat down. She took a quick look around the library and noticed some leftover bloodstains on a nearby table. While dried and mostly cleaned, it looked like somebody missed a spot or two. They really needed to clean up better.  
  
The brunette sighed before asking, "Do I even want to know what happened last night?"  
  
"Clark died," Xander explained tactlessly. Willow winced while Clark sat there unflinchingly. Everyone was processing the previous night’s events in their own way.  
  
Cordelia arched an eyebrow and gave Clark a onceover, "He looks good to me."  
  
Oz helpfully explained, "He got better."  
  
The brunette rolled her eyes before turning to Clark for an explanation, "You explain."   
  
Clark met her eyes before wincing and looking away. He struggled to say something, his emotions all jumbled. His thoughts of Faith and his own temporary death were very hard to deal with. It was much easier to stare and appreciate the woodwork of the table.  
  
"Well?" Cordelia demanded.  
  
Willow picked up on his distress and answered for him quietly, "Faith stabbed him with a knife."  
  
"Oh, well. That sucks," Cordy responded lamely. It was a massive understatement. _Hold on._ Clark had taken a fricking crossbow bolt to the chest. She tentatively opened her mouth for a follow-up question.  
  
Oz anticipated her and explained, "Magic."  
  
"Oh. But he's here now..."  
  
Clark composed himself and explained, "My powers are somehow connected to the sun. I healed this morning."  
  
Xander continued the narrative unusually serious, "His heart stopped a bit before dawn. We were lucky some sunlight came in through the windows just a few minutes later."  
  
Cordelia's expression softened as she glanced at Clark. His mood almost stopped her from asking one last question.  
  
"And Faith?"  
  
"Is most definitely a skanky, evil, hoe-bag," Willow replied firmly.  
  
Xander nodded vigorously while Oz gave a small nod. Clark on the other hand just looked back down at the table. He wasn't sure if he really heard a regretful sorry or if he'd imagined it. Blood loss and shock had made things blurry towards the end. Ultimately though it probably didn't matter; knife to the gut spoke louder than words.  
  
Buffy burst through the library doors and promptly made her way towards their table. She perched on the edge of the table and began swinging her legs idly.  
  
"So watcha talking about?" she asked oblivious to the current atmosphere.  
  
"Faith," Oz replied, straight to the point.  
  
Buffy froze for a moment before a blank mask dropped over her face. Looking at Clark, she saw his dejected demeanour. Despite living through the night, Buffy knew Clark had little to celebrate.  
  
"I'm sorry the way things turned out Clark," Buffy offered gently.  
  
Clark felt his eyes water.  
  
"So am I."


	24. ??? / Gym

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> End game.

* * *

"We're graduating in a few hours guys," Xander commented happily, "As long as you know, we don't die horrifically painful deaths."  
  
Willow giggled while Oz raised a laconic eyebrow. Clark felt more in agreement with Cordelia who just rolled her eyes. Giles coughed softly into his hand and Wesley met his eyes before making a gesture to Buffy. The blonde met his eyes and gave Giles a look.  
  
"All yours watcher-mine."  
  
"We still haven't told you all the full extent of the plan," Giles began. He sighed before continuing, "It will make more sense when Angel arrives."  
  
"Ah, speaking of the Deadboy," Xander commented as the library doors opened, "Here he is. So what's the sitch?"  
  
Behind him, Faith walked into the library. Half the room immediately tensed. Oz took a step in front of Willow while both Cordelia and Xander picked up nearby items to use as makeshift weapons. Clark readied himself for a fight. He would be more cautious this time around though; he didn't want a second knife to the gut.  
  
Before anyone could make an offensive move Buffy raised both her hands and said, "Woah guys, chill."  
  
Confused, half the Scoobies turned to Giles and Wesley, both of them wearing stoic, yet guilty expressions.  
  
Faith gave the room a sardonic grin, "Not sure about you Xan-man, but I ain't scared of a book."  
  
Sheepishly Xander put down the heavy leather-bound book, but his bewildered look remained. Cordelia put down her lamp with a snort.  
  
"I don't understand," Clark’s anguish and confusion were obvious to everyone. The situation was worse than the cafeteria one. It made even less sense.  
  
"Faith was playing the role of a double agent," explained Wesley gently, "She snuck us information and helped us indirectly sabotage some of the Mayor's plans."  
  
"Since when?" Clark ground out. Anger slowly began to overwhelm his other emotions. Willow, Oz, Xander, and Cordelia kept quiet knowing it was more important that Clark got his answers. Their own curiosity could wait.  
  
"It's why we had to stop," Faith said softly.  
  
Understanding flashed across Clark's eyes, "When you left the police station.”  
  
The slayer nodded in acknowledgement.  
  
"Who knew?" Clark's asked angrily.  
  
"Who knew?!?" he repeated, more demanding the second time.  
  
Giles motioned to himself and Wesley, "Faith came to us with the idea at first to gather more information from the Mayor."  
  
Clark turned and glared at Angel. The vampire's expression didn't change though he apologized, "Sorry Clark, but they approached me from nearly the beginning."  
  
Before he could turn to her, Buffy said, "I'm sorry Clark, but we needed to make it believable."  
  
He understood on a logical level why they’d done it, but it did nothing to make him feel any better about it.  
  
Xander was not happy either, "And was Clark almost dying part of the act then?"  
  
He was almost as vocal in his outrage as Clark. While quiet, the others were clearly upset as well.  
  
Faith and Giles winced visibly and the watcher replied quietly, "That was a most unfortunate accident. No, it was most definitely not part of the plan."  
  
"Good to know almost killing each other wasn’t part of the plan,” Cordelia snarked.  
  
“Or actually killing,” Oz helpfully added. Everyone stared, “Clark’s heart stopped. It counts.”  
  
Startled, Faith turned to Angel, “You never told me that! You said he was fine. You fucking lied to me!”  
  
She walked up and punched the vampire hard. He collapsed to the floor and Buffy walked between then to prevent any more violence could occur. The vampire got up slowly and kept his face perfectly still despite his possibly cracked jaw.  
  
Giles and Wesley were clearly struggling to find the correct words.  
  
“It would have put you in danger,” everyone turned to Clark in surprise. He met Faith’s eyes, “You would have broken cover. The Mayor would have known if you came looking for me.”  
  
“Yeah,” Faith answered softly. She swallowed, “Clark I—“  
  
“Was it worth it?” the Kryptonian directed his question to Giles.  
  
The librarian replied sympathetically, but firmly, “We gained the Books of Ascension, knowledge of Wilkin’s timeline, and thwarted several potential murders.”  
  
Nodding, Clark blatantly ignored Faith as she fought to find the right words.  
  
“Everyone knows their part of the plan?” he directed his words to the rest of the room. Everyone nodded.  
  
“Does my part change because of Faith?” he asked Buffy. When the blonde shook her head, he made his way to the door without looking back.  
  
If Faith had said something he chose not to hear it.  
  
“I’ll see you all at graduation.”  
  
There was more at stake than his personal anger, pain, and sorrow. He’d figure the rest out later. He couldn’t afford distractions right now. Despite all the feelings he repressed deep down, a small part of Clark felt lighter.  
  
She was back.  
  
**Lift**  
  
.  
  
  
**Gym**  
  
"So, now you've burnt down a second gym, I think that makes you a serial arsonist," Clark teased Buffy.  
  
Things had pretty much gone according to plan. Although Clark regretted freezing as Wilkins first transformed, it had been the most amazing, albeit twisted, thing he’d ever seen. Unfortunately his observation of the Mayor had distracted him until it was too late to save Principal Snyder from being eaten. None of the others were as upset over the graduation’s only casualty.  
  
During the blur of the aftermath, emergency services had arrived to help with the situation. Considering the competency of the police department, Clark was pleasantly surprised when the paramedics and firefighters proved far more reliable. First aid was administered and thankfully no one needed to visit the emergency room.  
  
Clark took a seat beside the blonde slayer. The two were completely covered in soot and sitting on the curb as emergency services took over the scene. He turned to Buffy.  
  
"If it works," she eventually shrugged her shoulders.  
  
The school was a smoking ruin with only a few sections still standing. Any areas that were still upright were likely structurally unsound. Unfortunately, there was still more demolitions left in the future for Sunnydale High.  
  
Clark laughed, "It is hard to argue with those results."  
  
"Besides, I don't think it counts as burning down the gym if you blow up most of the building," Buffy defended.  
  
Clark deadpanned, "Because that's so much better."  
  
"Yup, it definitely is," the slayer made sure to pop the 'p' for emphasis.  
  
Laughing quietly, Clark took in the scene around him. He still couldn’t believe they'd done it. The Mayor was dealt with and all it took was a significant amount of treated fertilizer. In hindsight it was actually quite scary how easy it was for Willow and Xander to put it all together. Then again that had only been part of the plan. Some explosives, an army of prepared students, and...  
  
Clark's mood darkened as he asked Buffy, "You never mentioned how long you knew."  
  
She winced and took a while to answer. She was clearly trying to break it gently, but in the end she just sighed before replying.  
  
"After the whole psychic dealeo.”  
  
Clark looked away, but not before Buffy saw the hurt in his eyes. She couldn't look at him as she tried to defend the plan. While maybe not completely necessary, it had likely saved a lot of lives. Unfortunately the emotional damage to the Scoobies would take a while to heal if it did at all. Still, Buffy felt the need to explain.  
  
"Clark, you suck at lying."  
  
Clark nodded, but didn't respond.  
  
"Willow, Xander, Cordelia, and Oz didn't know either," the blonde offered.  
  
Clark still didn't respond.  
  
"It was necessary."  
  
He finally sighed, "I know that Buffy."  
  
The slayer wasn't satisfied with his response and went for the root of the problem.  
  
"She made the right decision."  
  
"How could she do this to me? How could any of you? You know how I feel about her! Couldn't any of you just have told me?" Clark finally let his emotions explode, "I trusted all of you but you kept me in the dark. I understand the Mayor had spies everywhere, but I thought you cared about me."  
  
He quieted down before whispering, "I thought she cared."  
  
Buffy frowned and replied softly, but firmly, "We do care."  
  
Clark snorted, "Could have fooled me. Was she even worried about me?”  
  
“You know she almost broke cover that night,” Buffy reminded him.  
  
“There’s no going back now though,” he sighed. His anger left him and leaving him exhausted.  
  
"Some things are more important than our personal feelings," Buffy replied with pain in her voice, "Sometimes our personal happiness has to take the back seat. Faith got that."  
  
Something in her voice made Clark look at her. She looked tired. Covered in grime and a little beat up, her outward appearance was nothing compared to the look in her eyes. In that moment, Clark knew he wouldn't be able to hold it against her.  
  
"Angel's leaving isn't he?" Clark asked.  
  
Buffy nodded, "We just can't work. It's better this way."  
  
They sat there in contemplation for a few moments.  
  
"Are you sure about that?"  
  
Buffy looked at the slightly overcast skies as though they had the answer she needed. They sat there for another while longer before she finally replied.  
  
"No."  
  
The silence between them resettled surprisingly comfortably as they both looked up at the clouds.  
  
"Are you going to be able to forgive her?" the blonde asked quietly.  
  
Clark shook his head in mild frustration, "I really don't know. I know why she did it and it probably saved a lot of lives today, but I can't help how I feel. Like she betrayed me."  
  
"She was only pretending not to care," Buffy gave him a knowing look, "Besides, you've already forgiven me."  
  
Clark gave her a weary grin, "No offense Buffy, but it’s not the same. I loved her."  
  
"Loved?" the slayer asked quietly, regret creeping into her voice. The secret had clearly been weighing heavily on her conscience for a while.  
  
Clark looked back up at the sky one again, "I still love her, but the trust is gone."  
  
"Really?" Buffy whispered, knowing he could still hear her.  
  
"We might get back to the same place," Clark offered, trying to help her feel better.  
  
His motive was completely transparent, but it warmed Buffy nonetheless. Clark cared too much and it would win out in the end. Buffy picked up on some movement in her periphery.  
  
"You just need to talk to her," the blonde said.  
  
"Maybe."  
  
The slayer nudged him softly. When he looked at her she motioned to the nearby firetruck. Looking dirty and exhausted, Faith stood awkwardly by the truck. She fidgeted nervously and couldn’t keep her eyes on him. Clark felt something rise in her chest as he looked at her. Buffy wasn't even offended when he abruptly stood up and left her behind.  
  
The Kryptonian slowly made his way over to Faith. She was a little beat up herself and also covered in soot. Her injuries looked minor however and Clark ended up focusing on her face. She was trying to hide it, but he could see that she was barely holding it together. The slight tremble of her lips and the tearing in her eyes were dead giveaways.  
  
He stopped just in front of her before she blurted out, "I'm so sorry."  
  
Faith crossed her arms as though to hug herself, "I'm so sorry."  
  
Clark pretended be confused, "I just came over to say hi."  
  
Tears started leaking down Faith's face as she laughed wetly, "I missed you, you big idiot."  
  
Clark half-expected her to punch him for his joke, but was caught off guard when she threw herself at him instead. She wrapped her arms around him as she sobbed against his chest. His shirt grew damp over time as Faith repeated the same words over and over.  
  
"I'm so sorry."  
  
Clark felt awkward at first, but as Faith continued to cry he slowly embraced her. There wasn’t really anything else he could have done. Feeling a sudden warmth, Clark looked up at the sky in time to see a break in the clouds. It might've been a sign, but he didn't really want to believe in providence. Still, he relaxed anyways and eventually rested his chin on Faith’s head. Something about the moment felt right.  
  
"I know, Faith. I know."  
  
**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a missing scene to come which serves well as an epilogue in my mind.


	25. ???

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The missing scene where Faith makes her decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene takes place during chapter 26, between Rocket and Brother.

* * *

“Are you sure about this Faith?” Wesley asked softly.

  
Having seen an opportunity with the Mayor, Faith took the chance. She figured that with the Watchers’ brains they’d be able to come up with a plan to learn from and maybe take down the Mayor. It wouldn’t be the first time she put herself in a questionable situation. At least this time it would be for a good reason. Clark’s and by extension the other Scoobies’ future was more important than her own. The stupid farm boy’s mentality was rubbing off on her.  
  
Faith shrugged her shoulders, “It’s the best way to figure out what’s going on.”  
  
“This may be an unnecessary risk,” Giles said, “We can always perform some research—“  
  
“Aww, I didn’t know you cared,” Faith drawled.  
  
“Of course we care,” snapped Wesley. He was clearly both upset and worried.  
  
Giles knew better and gave Faith a knowing look. She shifted uncomfortably and looked distractedly around the library. The tables were uncharacteristically empty of books, probably for school the next day. She’d contacted both Watchers immediately after her impromptu meeting with the Mayor.  
  
She coughed before replying in a more serious tone, “Look, I get why you’re worried over little ole me, but this is better than looking through your dusty old books.”  
  
“This is exposing you to an unnecessary amount of danger,” Giles reiterated his previous concern.  
  
Faith stubbornly replied, “It’s the best way to get what we want.”  
  
“The risk—“ Giles began.  
  
“Giles,” Wesley cut him off. He motioned towards Faith, “Look at her.”  
  
Although she appeared to be casually lounging against the table, Faith’s expression told another story. Giles had never seen her look this determined. Still he had to try.  
  
“Faith,” Giles attempted to stare her down.  
  
“G-man,” Faith replied with a deadpan.  
  
The watcher didn’t even flinch, “This idea is ill-conceived and far too dangerous.”  
  
“And letting the Mayor do what he wants while we stumble in the dark like idiots is better?” demanded Faith.  
  
“And what if he asks you do something absolutely deplorable?” Giles demanded, “Will you commit crimes in his name just for some information?”  
  
The slayer stubbornly jutted her chin out, “If it’s necessary to keep Cl—everyone safe, then yes. Anyways, I’m sure we can figure stuff around it. You guys got the brain stuff going on.”  
  
“Faith… while Clark may be an admirable young man, he’s not worth risking your wellbeing over,” Wesley said, jumping back into the discussion, “You can do far more against the Mayor here and with us.”  
  
Faith fidgeted before saying, “Well actually—“  
  
“Faith!” Giles snapped cutting her off.  
  
The slayer stopped talking, but was clearly unhappy. Wesley looked between Giles and Faith trying to decipher the meaning behind their gazes. After a while, he gave up and just asked them both directly.  
  
“What is it that I’m missing?” he asked.  
  
“There’s nothing to say on the subject,” Giles responded in a clipped tone, “Faith is overvaluing Clark due to her affections for him.”  
  
Wesley turned in surprise to Giles. While the other watcher had not always been forthcoming for information, as far as Wesley knew, Giles had never outright lied to him. Lies of omission perhaps, but never directly before.  
  
Insulted, Wesley said, “If you think I’m a bloody idiot—“  
  
“You’re wrong.”  
  
Wesley turned to Faith in surprise, “Excuse me?”  
  
She wasn’t looking at him though; she was looking at Giles.  
  
“This is not your secret to tell,” Giles replied. He pinched his nose in frustration, “He came to us in confidence and—“  
  
“I dreamed of him,” Faith interrupted him again.  
  
“Oh well, of course you dreaming of him makes it alright,” Giles responded sarcastically.  
  
Wesley on the other hand took the time to observe her. Faith was unusually serious and clearly had something important to say. Something beyond her feelings for Clark.  
  
“What sort of dream?” the watcher asked calmly.  
  
“One of those messed up Slayer ones,” Faith explained, “Except it wasn’t all messed up for once.”  
  
She took in their questioning looks, “It was about Clark and what he’s supposed to become. I think. There was some, like, special light or some shit all around him. It made me feel all warm and tingly. I saw him travelling the world, saving people. And then there was joined by a group of people. They made sure everyone was safe. More safe than I’ve ever felt. Ever. Even when I’m alone with Clark.”  
  
Both watchers were unsure how to respond to her. Nervously Faith shifted until she gave up on her perch and hopped off the table. She paced back and forth waiting for either watcher to say something.  
  
Wesley went first, “I don’t understand… how can Clark be so important?”  
  
Giles sighed. That was not the not the most pressing issue, “Do you recall our conversation before we drove to the police station?”  
  
“Yes, we had quite a fascinating conversation on—” looking between the other two, Wesley asked in earnest, “Truly?”  
  
“If you mean the sex is out of this world, then yes, yes it is,” Faith replied. She gave the watcher a knowing wink as he blushed slightly.  
  
Pretending Faith hadn’t gotten a reaction, Wesley turned to Giles, “Are you certain?”  
  
“I have more than enough evidence to convince me of Clark’s otherworldly origins,” the other watcher replied reluctantly, “You must understand the importance of maintaining this secret.”  
  
“But surely the council—“  
  
“They would take any measures to ensure he was properly studied. Murder and dissection would be one of the more pleasant possible scenarios,” Giles bit out. His colleague needed to understand the importance of their discretion.  
  
“Clark is important,” Faith interjected, “Like, important for the world important.”  
  
“Surely, you’re overstating his importance…” Wesley trailed off when Faith turned to Giles.  
  
“He only gets stronger. A lot stronger.”  
  
Giles’ mouth dropped open in shock. A few second later he clacked his mouth closed. He stumbled on what to say and eventually settled with a simple, ‘Good lord’.  
  
“I am beginning to feel more than a little concerned,” Wesley let out. Over the past few months, he had come to appreciate the elder watcher’s instincts and Giles’ shock was more than a little alarming.  
  
“You don’t understand. The warmth, that light I felt? That wasn’t about how strong he is. That was him. The farm boy… it was his heart. His—goodness,” Faith explained. She sighed in frustration, “I can’t really say what I saw.”  
  
Giles, while hesitant, seemed to understand. Nonetheless, he felt something needed to be said before they even revisited her idea.  
  
“Clark won’t appreciate what you want to do. This could destroy your entire relationship with him.”  
  
Faith looked away for a brief moment before turning back to the two watchers. She met their eyes unflinchingly.  
  
“This isn’t about me. What I want, or have. This is about the shit that’s way more important than just me.”  
  
In that moment Giles and Wesley both knew that Clark wasn’t the only one with their own light.  
  
**Bioluminescence**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this missing scene as a sort of epilogue because it highlights how far Faith's come in her journey. Please let me know what you thought of my story!


End file.
